A Collection of Ideas
by SpencerRemyLvr
Summary: Here's a series of Ideas and the scenes they inspired. I'm not sure where any of these scenes will go, or if they'll ever turn into more stories, but if you'd really like to see more, let me know! They will all, naturally, be Remy/Spencer slash, though there may be a gen one or two thrown in for kicks. Mostly, though, for now they're just one-shots, read at your own risk!
1. Chapter 1

_Part one of a series of Ideas and the scenes they inspired. I'm not sure where any of these scenes will go, or if they'll ever turn into more stories, but if you'd really like to see more, let me know! I'm going to post them as chapters on here, and individual stories over on A03._

_"After a case gone bad that left him traumatized and disabled, Spencer quit the Bureau and moved away, shutting himself off from the world. Until one day, his little sanctuary is broken open by a man with a sharp grin and laughing devil eyes."_

* * *

><p>The sun was just starting to dip low in the sky when Spencer Reid stood at the back of his truck and loaded his groceries inside. An absent look at the sky told him he'd been smart to stick the canopy on; it looked like there was a good chance of rain starting up before he finally got home. He quickly finished settling his bags in the truck and securing them into place. Once he had them all in, he shut the back hatch and put his cart in one of the nearby caddies before heading to the driver's seat. His hand curled around the inside handle to help hold himself steady as he leveraged his body into the truck with just a slight wince for the pull on protesting muscles. As always, he pushed away the thought, only giving a moment to absently rub at the throbbing in his right thigh. A long soak in the tub was going to be in order as soon as he got home and got these groceries unloaded or he was going to be in for a very long night.<p>

Spencer locked his seatbelt into place and then started up his ancient truck. Just a hint of a smile touched his lips as it always did when the now familiar roar filled the air. Wouldn't people be surprised to see him now? Spencer Reid, awkward little genius often dubbed an 'absent minded professor' because of his fashion sense, dressed down to a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and driving around in a truck that was older than his father. The surprise wouldn't end there, though. He knew they'd be surprised to see his home here, too. This definitely wasn't typical 'Reid' style.

'Here' was a private, cozy house, about twenty minutes outside of the city of Salt Lake City, Utah, in the middle of a forest set on private land that had cost him a hefty sum of money to get. The house afforded him privacy from the world around him, a place to relax and unwind and escape from people while still providing him with easy access to the city. No matter how low he got, no matter how much he needed to hide out a while, he was too much of a city boy at heart to be too far from one. This was a perfect fit for him right now. If he so wished, he could easily head into the city and do whatever he needed to do. Or he could stay in the quiet of his home, where the only thing outside were trees and sky.

Still, he could picture the expressions some people would wear if they caught sight of him driving down the road in this truck. That thought entertained him as he pulled out of the parking lot and started to make his way toward home. He could hear them in his mind, their voices laced with disbelief.

_"__You live here? Seriously? Like…seriously?"_ Penelope would say to him.

Derek would most likely laugh. _"__I swear, pretty boy, you're one hell of a mystery. Who would've pictured you out here with nature. And not a library in sight!"_

Dave and Aaron would understand, Spencer thought. Emily, probably, too. They'd understand the appeal of this place. JJ, well, she'd been the one to help Spencer find this. She'd helped him find this little sanctuary and had promised him she'd tell no one where it was, or how to find him. It was the way he'd wanted it when he left and it was way he still knew it needed to be. Every now and again JJ would come and see him and bring him news of his friends, always bearing gifts and letters from them, and those would have to be enough. Spencer had come out here to escape his world. He knew he couldn't do that with all of his friends around, no matter how badly he missed them.

Thinking of them brought on that same pang that it always did. Spencer took his next turn and tried not to let himself care. It never worked. Almost three years he'd been living here and still, he found himself missing them, missing home, at least once a day. He'd find himself thinking of the people who had been his friends, his family, and he'd feel that clench in his heart again. He'd get that urge to pack up and go back home. "It's not home anymore." He reminded himself, shivering as his voice echoed softly in the confines of the truck. There was no home there for him anymore. Not since that day, three years ago, when his home had been violated. Not just violated—ripped apart and destroyed. It wasn't his home anymore. That had been ruined. Now it was a horror, and Spencer didn't need to be there every day to see it. He saw it often enough in his dreams. He didn't need the daily reminder.

The drive home took a little longer than normal as the dark clouds overhead finally gave in to their promise for rain. He unloaded his groceries and tried to keep himself as dry as possible. Mentally he ran through what he had and what he'd bought and he gave a small, pleased nod as he started to put things away. Good. It looked like he'd have plenty. The river had looked high when he'd drive across the bridge and onto his property. With the way the rain was coming down and the weather reports he'd heard, there was a good chance that the bridge would flood over, effectively trapping him here. There was only the one road to and from the cabin, once off the main road, which was a plus in some ways, but a down in others. Namely, when bad weather struck and the river rose, trapping him here. But he'd learned how to stock himself up for just those times.

There was a chance he could lose power, too, if the storm got any worse overnight. Luckily, there was plenty of wood chopped to keep him warm enough. He'd been surprised to find just how much he enjoyed the fireplaces in his new home when he'd first moved in. Oh, sure, learning how to chop wood had been a pain—literally. But his doctor had actually encouraged it as a form of physical therapy and so Spencer had worked through the pain of it until, nowadays, he sometimes even enjoyed the physical labor of chopping the wood and stacking it on his covered porch. Who would've ever figured him, scrawny little him, actually doing something that required _muscle_, and _enjoying_ it? JJ had teased him about it endlessly when she'd caught him at it during one of her visits. But the looked she'd given him even as she'd teased had been warm and loving.

However, right now he was immensely glad he'd cut some wood a few days ago and that there was plenty enough on the porch to get him through a few days if need be. Right now he doubted he'd be able to even lift the ax properly. Swinging it would be dangerous as hell. There was no telling what he'd end up hitting.

Slowly, achingly, he folded up his reusable bags and put them into the pantry where he stored them. Then he made his careful way out of the kitchen, sparing a moment to check to make sure the doors and windows were all shut and locked before heading down the hall to the master bedroom. He bypassed the very alluring looking bed, promising himself sleep soon enough, and made a beeline straight for the bathroom with only a brief stop to grab comfortable clothes from the dresser.

This room had been another selling point behind this house. Whoever had owned this place before had definitely splurged on a few things when they'd built it. The kitchen, for one, which somehow managed to feel comfortable and homey while still being built in a way that would probably make some chefs jealous, and the bathroom was another area that they'd splurged on. The master bathroom had a long vanity with a bench seat, a shower stall to one side, near the toilet, and against the other wall was a raised Jacuzzi tub. A _huge_ Jacuzzi tub. It was raised up just enough that Spencer could sit down on the edge of it without having to bend to far, and on those days that it was hard from him to move, it was easy to pull himself out to the tub edge and then just turn his legs out of the tub and his feet touched the ground with barely any effort needed to straighten up. Those kinds of days happened to often for his liking, even after all these years.

Spencer sat down at the edge of the tub and leaned in to get the water started. He made sure it was hot enough, just shy of boiling his skin, and then he set the plug and moved away while the tub filled. One hand rubbed at his thigh absently while he made his way to the counter to start unloading his pockets. Change from his pockets went into the little jar he kept in here that was already three quarters of the way full of loose change. Next came his cell phone, which he never traveled anywhere without. Next came the other item he never traveled without—he pulled his gun from the ankle holster and set that down on the counter as well, close enough to be in reach of the tub if he had to move quickly.

He had to sit himself down on the bench to get low enough to remove his shoes and socks. The socks were tossed into the hamper and the shoes set onto the countertop for now. In quick order, he shed the rest of his clothes, tossing them all into the hamper, until he was down to just the last few items.

The brace around his knee and thigh came off first. The only reason he'd worn those today was because he'd been out shopping and being up on that leg for extended periods of time wasn't smart without the brace in place. He ignored the scars that were uncovered, signs of the damage hidden within. He knew them all by heart. Knew which ones were from the surgery that had worked to repair the shattered knee, which ones came from where his thighbone had broken through the skin. He could trace each and every one of them without even having to look and he could tell the story that went with each. But he didn't. He set that brace down and moved on to the next. With his left hand he reached over to his right and pulled the thin leather glove off, setting that down. Then he drew off the prosthetic that covered half of his right hand. He ignored these scars, too, though not as easily as he did with his leg. It wasn't easy to ignore the gap of the three missing fingers. For just one brief moment he curled in his index finger and thumb, making a facsimile of a fist, the ache in his hand spreading a little. Then, with a deep breath out, he relaxed his hand once more.

His steps were only slightly heavy as he moved to shut the water off. Without the brace, his leg didn't move as easily, nor as pain free, and it took him a second to walk over there. Once the water was off he made sure a towel was nearby and then he sat down on the edge of the tub and carefully lifted his aching leg up and then into the hot water with only a soft hiss to show his pain. That hiss turned into a drawn out sigh when he slid the rest of his body down into the water. Ah, _yes_. The heat surrounded him and his whole body seemed to slump down into it. This was _exactly_ what he'd needed. After a long day spent in town his body needed this relaxation. Trips into town were rare for him so he tended to pack as much as possible into one day. For the most part, he was content to spend his time here, away from people. Away from the world.

_"__You can't hide out forever, Spence_." JJ had told him the last time she was here. She'd sat on the front porch with him while they'd drank their morning coffee and she'd watched him with those big eyes of hers that looked at him with love and understanding and sympathy, but never pity. Thank God, never pity. _"__What kind of life are you living here? A person needs more than books in their life._"

"_My stories are good enough for me."_ He'd told her. And they were.

This life he'd built here, it was good enough. It was _safe_. There was nothing in the world more important than that.

Spencer sighed and sank a little lower down into the water until it was tickling at his chin. With practiced skill, he pushed away the dark thoughts, letting the heat of the water warm him straight down to his bones until he felt like every bit of him had simply melted here. He might've come close to drifting off to sleep if it wasn't for the sudden flickering of the lights. That was enough to draw his heavy eyes open and bring him back to reality. Time to get out of here. He needed to get a fire built in the bedroom before the power really went out. Best to get it going while it was still warm in here.

Fifteen minutes later Spencer was in his comfortable sweats and a long sleeved shirt, carefully kneeling and coaxing the small blaze to life in his bedroom fireplace. He'd just managed to bring it to life when he heard the very last thing he'd expected—a hard knock on his front door.

For one instant Spencer froze. His whole body locked down and his wide eyes snapped up and towards the direction of the front of the house while his heart jackhammered in his chest. Who the hell was here, at his place? In _this_ weather?

A second knock jarred him out of his stupor. Immediately, his left hand slid around to the back of his pants where he'd set his gun on his way out of the bathroom. There was absolutely no hesitation in him when he drew it and checked to make sure it was loaded and the safety was off. The gun stayed firmly in his hand while he made his way cautiously out towards the living room. There was a very large part of him that wanted nothing more than to take up a careful position here in his living room where he wouldn't be seen—there, against the side of the cabinet, perfectly hidden from anyone who came through the door while still allowing him a clear line of sight—and just wait for the person to leave. Why on earth would anyone be out in weather like this, let alone knocking at his door? How on earth would they have even gotten across the bridge? There was no way it wasn't flooded over by now! The rain was coming down in buckets out there!

But the other part of him, the part that still held something of the person he'd once been, couldn't just stand here. What if this person was lost, or hurt, or in need of some kind of assistance?

Against all better judgment, Spencer forced himself across those last few feet and, with his gun held ready at his side, he answered his door.

The very first thing he saw was a pair of laughing devil eyes framed by chunks of soaking wet hair. Hair that was plastered to a face that was stretched with a wide grin that matched the devilish humor of those eyes. "Hey dere." The man said, and his voice came out like whiskey, warm and husky, and there was just a hint of a laugh at the edges. "_Je suis désolé, monsieur, _I don't mean to disturb y, _mais _my name's Remy and I was on m' way to see a friend of mine somewhere in dese parts an I t'ink I got a bit turned round, an den de damn mud got so t'ick I couldn't get m' bike to go nowhere. I was hoping maybe y' might have a phone I could use? M' cell aint working an I need to call Logan an tell him to come and find m' ass, cause dis city boy is sure as shit lost out in all dese trees."

The rush of words that tumbled from this man had Spencer speechless for a moment. When he could find his voice, which took a very pregnant pause and the clearing of his throat, he blurted out the very first thing that came to mind, no matter how stupid it sounded. "Not many carriers get cell service up here. Just one, really." Stupid, stupid! The man was soaking wet and here Spencer was talking about _cell phone carriers_.

Remy didn't seem bothered by his inane words. If anything, his grin grew wider and just a bit brighter. "Go figure. Leave it to Logan to pick some place in de boonies dat aint even got good reception. Sounds like just his kinda t'ing."

"I've got a phone that works." Spencer found himself blurting out. The voice inside of him screamed out '_Stupid!'_ at him, but it didn't stop him. It was like his self-preservation took a sudden backseat. All those years at the BAU had apparently taught him _absolutely nothing_. Letting strangers into your home when you're miles from civilization and there's no one around to help was never a good idea. Yet Spencer took a step back and gestured in towards his living room. "Why don't you come inside and I'll go get it for you? I still have power, so it's still warm in here. Better than standing on the porch."

If he'd thought Remy's smile was bright before, it was nothing compared to the one that was beamed at him now. "_Merci_!" He exclaimed happily. He accepted Spencer's invitation without hesitation and strode inside like he'd been doing so for years, moving with an ease and confidence that Spencer had never been able to replicate, not even back in his better days.

As Spencer shut the door behind his new guest, he cursed himself roundly, calling himself every stupid name in the book. What was he doing, letting some stranger in to the house? Hadn't he learned his lesson? Hadn't he learned _anything_? Briefly, he pressed his forehead against the door. No, no, this wasn't the same. This was completely different. He wasn't helpless this time. He was armed, as prepared as anyone can be, and he was smart. He wasn't going to be caught unawares like that ever again.

Slipping his bad hand into his pocket, he lifted his other hand and deliberately put his gun in the front of his pants, after making sure the safety was back on, of course. Let the man see that he was armed. Let him be aware. Spencer lifted his chin and wiped any expression off his face. Then he turned around to look at the man who was now standing near the fall wall by the heater, watching him with one eyebrow raised. He didn't even flinch at the sight of the gun. Spencer put on his best fake smile and squared his shoulders. "You go ahead and stand there and get warm .I'll go and get the phone for you." _Then you can make your call and get out of my life, before I do anything else stupid around you._


	2. Chapter 2

_"Spencer up and quits his job and vanishes and the team is convinced that there's something wrong, but no one believes them. They think he just up and quit and that's it. Only, Garcia can't find him anywhere, and they know there's no way he'd just leave. So Rossi calls up an old friend, Logan, and asks if he can help find and retrieve their genius."_

* * *

><p>None of them saw it coming. Looking back at it, they all wondered how they couldn't have seen it, how they'd missed the little signs and warnings that were now so glaringly obvious. They were profilers, a group of men and women trained to read things in people's body language, to understand human behavior and use it to predict what someone was going to do. True, they were trained to do that on the job, with their Unsub—their bad guy—but it wasn't a skill you just turned off when off the job. Though they tried not to, they all profiled one another all the time. It had become something automatic. Yet they'd missed every single sign that their youngest member showed and they were kicking themselves for it now. Maybe if they'd paid more attention, if they'd asked questions instead of just ignoring things, they might not be here now. Spencer might not be gone.<p>

Derek had been the one to find out what was going on and bring them the news. Only, by then it was already too late. He went bright and early one morning to pick Spencer up for work, a little worried about how quiet his friend had been lately. When he got to Spencer's apartment building he went upstairs as he'd done so many times before. Only, this time, something was very, very different. When he got up there, he found Spencer's door open, and it was a sign of how their work affected him in that he didn't just assume Spencer left the door open, or was on his way out. No, his hand went to his gun and his whole body braced for trouble while images of home invasions and Unsubs coming back for revenge flashed through his mind.

What he found was nothing like what he'd imagined. There was no Unsub, no attack, no signs of a struggle. In fact, there was nothing. Literally _nothing_. The whole apartment was empty. No furniture, no curtains, not even boxes with things packed inside. From floor to ceiling, the apartment was bare. Derek walked through it all and checked every single room. Each one was just as empty as the last—until he got to the kitchen. That was where he found the only things left in the entire apartment. One envelope, held to the fridge by a magnet. On the outside of the envelope were two words. _The Team._

Derek read through the letter standing there in the middle of Spencer's empty kitchen. As soon as he finished, he pulled out his cell phone. Though he knew it wouldn't work, he still tried Spencer's number first, only to be told it was no longer in service. Then he dialed the number of his boss. "Hotch?" He said when the man answered. "Something's happened to Reid…"

* * *

><p>One hour later, the BAU team was gathered in the empty living room of what had once been Spencer's apartment. Because, as Derek had found out, this was no longer Spencer's. The manager had been clear on that. What he said was one of the first things that Derek shared with the team once they were all there. "I spoke with his manager." He told them, looking around at them all. Emily, JJ, Aaron, Dave, Penelope. This team that was more like family than friends. "He said that Reid showed up late in the day on Friday, after work from the sound of it, and that he told him he was moving and he'd be out by Monday. Then he paid him for the last month's rent."<p>

"You said there was a letter?" Aaron asked. As always, he took control of the situation, the rock that held the team together no matter what was happening around them.

Derek blew out a breath and pulled the letter back out. Instead of handing it over, he unfolded it and read out the few words that had been scrawled across the page in Spencer's familiar handwriting.

"_To my friends,_

_I know you're upset right now and I apologize for that. I'm sorry that things had to be done this way. I'm sorry that I wasn't strong enough to do this face to face. But I couldn't run the risk of you guys trying to talk me out of this, and we all know that you would've tried._

_As you'll have realized by now, I'm gone, and I don't intend on coming back. Doing the job that we do, it takes so very much out of you. I've come to realize that it's taken from me all that I can give. There's nothing left. I've given my years, my innocence, my everything, all to this job. I've come to work every single day, forced to hide who I truly am from a government that would throw me out or imprison me if they ever found out I was a mutant. For these people, for this job, I've been kidnapped, drugged, killed and brought back, shot, beaten, hunted, tortured, humiliated—there is only so much a person can take before they reach their breaking point. I've reached mine. I finally understand now how Gideon could simply turn and walk away with only a letter of explanation. I was so furious with him for it back then, yet now, as I write this, I finally understand. Only, I won't make his mistake. I won't hurt a few of you by writing only to one. I address this to you all, my team that became my family, and I ask for your understanding and your forgiveness. Please understand that this is what I have to do. I need to leave._

_My apartment has been emptied, my resignation officially turned in. My time at the Bureau is done._

_I'm asking you to please respect my decisions and not try to find me. I'm asking you to let me go. This is what I need to do. I need a fresh start somewhere that isn't surrounded by death and evil. I need to find somewhere that I'm free to be myself without fear of my big 'secret' being discovered. When I find that, when I finally find my peace once more, I promise you I'll reach out. This isn't a forever goodbye. This is just 'until then'. Let me find myself first. Please. __Do not try to find me__._

_I never said it, but I love you all dearly. Take care of yourselves._

_Spencer._"

The room went for a few minutes once Derek was done reading. It was Penelope who finally broke that silence, unsurprisingly. "What do we do?" she asked them, looking from one face to the next. "We've got to find him!"

"No."

Aaron's firm voice startled everyone. All eyes turned to him and he quickly held up a hand for silence before they could say a word. "No." He repeated firmly. "We are not going to hunt him down. We're not going to do that to him. Reid's made it very clear in there what he wants and what he needs and we're going to respect that."

"But sir," Emily tried, just slightly hesitant, something that was rare for her.

"No." Aaron repeated, and in his tone was a final note they all knew so well. It was the voice of their Unite Chief, not their friend, letting them know that this was his final point and he wasn't going to be moved from it. "Like Reid said, our job takes a lot out of a person and it's taken a lot from him. We all know the struggles he's had over the years. Not once has he ever asked us for anything, not for any kind of help. The least we can do now is respect his wishes the one time he does ask us for something. We're going to let him go and wait for when he contacts us. I think he's earned that."

How could they argue with that? It felt so wrong to just let him go, to not try and find him and find out if he was okay or what had happened to spark this, but Aaron was right. He'd earned the right to have them respect his wishes. He'd never asked them for anything before. They couldn't just dismiss it the one time he did.

Still, as they walked out of the apartment, each one of them felt that small sense of wrongness in the back of their minds that would come to haunt them over the next few months.

* * *

><p>It took four months before the search for Spencer truly started. Though they hated it, they all tried to do as he asked and let him go. They tried to give him time to find what he was searching for and to let him be the one to reach out. It was no surprise, though, when the others found that Penelope had reached out. That she had, in fact, been reaching out for almost that entire four months. She didn't tell anyone that she was doing it, not wanting to hear them argue with her to let him go. She couldn't just let him go. She couldn't! He was part of her family, one of her babies, and she had to know he was at least okay. Only, there was nothing for her to find. So, four months after they found that goodbye letter, Penelope walked into Aaron's office and told him "I think something happened to Reid."<p>

They all gathered quickly in the conference room. All it took was mention of their friend and they all came. And in there, Penelope explained what she'd been doing.

"I know you guys said to just let him go, but I couldn't do it." She told them all. She didn't look apologetic, though. She looked, worried. "I've been trying to track Reid down ever since we found that letter. I've kept my eye out and tried to hunt him down ever since then."

"Tried?" Emily asked. She, like the others, had caught on to that one word and all its possible meanings.

Penelope winced and nodded her head. "That's the thing—I haven't found anything. And I do mean _anything_. It's like he up and vanished off the face of the earth."

"You haven't found anything?" There was surprise in Derek's voice when he asked that, as well as a bit of worry. He'd been worrying about his missing friend for a while now but he'd tried to convince himself that Spencer was just somewhere else, settling in. If he was, though, Penelope should be able to find him.

"Nothing." She said. "No bills, no credit card activity, no cell phones. He hasn't put his name on a lease, a utility bill, a new bank account—nothing. The only activity on his current bank account is the continued payments to his mom's care, but other than that, he's not showing up anywhere. If he just went somewhere and started over there should be some kind of paper trail. But there's not. I even," Pausing, she flushed a little, knowing they might not approve of what she'd done. "I even checked in discreetly with his Mom and found out that he hasn't been sending her letters. Her doctor said they got one phone call, two weeks ago, but it was nothing more than a quick check on her condition, and he was off the phone as soon as they told him. Other than that, they've heard nothing from him."

That had everyone sitting up a little straighter. They all knew just how close Spencer was to his mother. He'd admitted to Penelope once that he wrote to her every day. Derek knew that Spencer called once a week to check in with his mom's doctor and to speak with her for a bit, if she was having one of her good days. He'd been taking care of his mentally ill mother since he was ten years old, maybe even before, and for him to have stopped writing and to call _once_ in four months was a very serious sign that something was terribly wrong.

"I can't get the Bureau to approve a search." Aaron told them. He'd made a few calls already after Penelope had spoken with him in his office. While waiting for her to gather the others, he'd tried to do what little he could, only to be stonewalled at each avenue. "They won't stop us from looking for him, but we're not going to be granted any time off to treat this like a case. As far as they're concerned, he willingly left the Bureau and there's nothing to support any trouble. Whatever we do, it's going to be done on our personal time."

"What can we do, though?" Penelope asked them. She'd been running this search on her own for four months now and was more than happy to let someone else be in charge. She worked best when given something to work with, little details to work out, while the main part of the plan fell to others. To Aaron, more specifically.

"If PG can't find him online, no one can." Emily said. She sat back, unconsciously picking at her finger. "We'll have to profile him. Look at what might've happened around the time that he left. If he ran like this, something had to send him running."

"Not just running. Hiding." Dave pointed out.

"It would have to be something big." JJ said. "Spence isn't the type to just run. The only thing I can see that would make him run was if it was to protect someone." _Us_. She didn't say it but they all heard it. The only reason that Spencer would run would be to protect them from something. The same way that Emily had run when Doyle was after her. She'd run to keep her family safe. Spencer had to be doing the same thing. He was protecting them, or someone else equally important. But from what?

What was so bad that he hadn't felt safe asking them for help?

* * *

><p>Even with the entire team on it, they were no close to finding him eleven weeks later. Spencer had been gone for almost seven months now. If it weren't for the fact that Diana had received three letters from him during that time—each one of them carefully worded and mailed so that there were no clues left behind—they wouldn't even know that he was still alive. But they had nothing to go on to help them find him. Penelope still couldn't find him electronically and the others hadn't been able to find anything that would've sent him running like this. Yet more and more they were sure that there was <em>something<em> that had sent him running. Something important. They were just all afraid they were running out of time to find out what it was.

They were out of ideas and almost out of hope. Once more they were gathered in the round table room, their current case done with, and they were trying to think of anything that they could do that hadn't already been done. Ideas were tossed back and forth and they were coming up with nothing.

All except for Dave. There was one idea sitting in the back of his head where it had been percolating for a little while now. He'd been loath to voice it before now. First he'd wanted to see if they could find Spencer on their own. However, it was beginning to look like that wasn't going to be possible. Wherever Spencer had gone, he was beyond their abilities to find. But he might not be beyond someone else's abilities. Dave waited for a lull in the conversation before he finally decided what he was going to do. "I might know someone that can help us." He said into the silence.

Surprise spread around the table. All eyes turned towards him. "Who?" Derek asked quickly. His eagerness to do anything to find his friend showed clearly on his face.

"An old friend." Dave said. It was the best he would give them. The less they knew about this, the better, and not just because he didn't want to get their hopes up. There were quite a few reasons that it was best to keep these two different parts of his life separate from one another. They were on such opposite ends of the spectrum. "Let me go give him a call. You guys just continue with what you're doing. I'm not sure he'll be able to help, so I don't really want to get into it yet. Not until I know."

He could see that they all had questions. They didn't ask, though. Aaron was the only one to do anything and all he did was nod at him.

Dave made sure his office door was shut and locked once he got inside. Then he settled down behind his desk and pulled out his cell phone, dialing a number he hadn't used for almost a year now. He wasn't even sure it would still work. But after only three rings, a familiar growling voice came over the line. "_Rossi. Been a while since I've heard from ya._"

"I wasn't even sure this number would still work. It's been a few months since you left me that message." Dave admitted, leaning back in his chair and staring up at the ceiling. It had been seven months, actually, since he'd had a message on his answering machine letting him know about this new number. He'd only called it once, back then, before their lives got too busy for them to really talk at all. But he needed him now. "I need your help, Logan."

"_Whatever I can, Rossi. Just tell me what ya need._"

"I need you to help me find my friend."


	3. Cherish the Child

_This one is a prompt that was actually given to me by someone else and I already had a piece that I wrote, well, years ago, that fit the bill oddly enough. So, here it is, un'beta'd, and potentially crap lol_

_"Spencer finds a mutant child during a case and ends up bring her/him home"_

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><p>It wasn't sound that drew Spencer's attention. No, it was the emotions that suddenly seemed to explode on the night air, slamming straight into his shields like a solid punch. He stumbled, Morgan's hands saving him from falling to the ground. "Reid? What is it?"<p>

"Someone's terrified." Spencer gasped out. Not just scared, but terrified. Only a strong terror could have hit him that hard while he was shielded like this. He didn't think about what he was doing or who was even with him before he started running in the direction of that fear. He had to help whoever that was. There was no way he could walk away without trying to find out what was going on. He ignored Morgan calling his name and instead raced forward, darting down the nearby alley. After checking to make sure the coast was clear, Spencer shamelessly used his powers to help him make a charged jump from the ground to the top of the fence at the back of the alley. His eyes were already taking in the sight waiting on the other side. There was a child curled behind a dumpster, sobbing hysterically and rocking back and forth. Two men were currently trying to pull the dumpster out of the way to get to the child.

"Hey!" Spencer shouted. He dropped down from the top of the fence, landing the way Remy had taught him so that he absorbed and lessened the impact, feeling only a small twinge in his knee. "What do you think you're doing?"

It was a good thing he was already holding his powers and was prepared for something because a knife came flying at him before he'd finished speaking. A surge of electricity acted as a momentary shield in front of him and he dove sideways, gathering power in his hands. One of the men turned toward him while the other continued to try to move the dumpster. As he looked at them, Spencer vaguely noticed the look to their clothes as well as their masks and his brain caught up with the rest of him. These were Assassins. Son of a bitch. "Just back off." He told them. "And let the child go. No one has to be hurt."

"Y' t'ink y' can hurt us, _homme_?" One of the men taunted behind his mask. "Run away, b'fore we make y' run. Dis is no business of y'rs."

If there was one thing he had learned, it was that people like this would not back off of their target. Still, he'd had to try. Spencer spared a small bit of power to shield the fence—he could see his friend getting ready to try to scale the fence to help him—keeping Morgan back and away from this fight. Then he gathered raw power in his hands, letting it grow. "You cannot have her." He told them. Then, with a deep, calming breath, Spencer committed himself to his plan and pushed aside all doubt. No matter how out of character this may be, no matter what this meant he had to do, he would not allow a child to be murdered. Not when he could stop it. He committed himself to doing whatever was necessary to stop this.

Instead of charging straight at them, or throwing the energy in his hands, Spencer did something he knew they wouldn't expect. He took the energy in each hand and flattened them out so that held what looked to be a long stick in each hand. Then he moved like a lightning strike, darting in and spinning the first stick towards the man's head. He didn't really need to fight them; he knew that. What he needed was to get close enough in the alley to be able to shock them without getting any charge on the dumpster and frying the child. That was going to be the trick. To do that, he needed to get his hands on them.

It was in his benefit that they had underestimated him, yet they definitely had him outdone on skill. The man made sure to stay out of Spencer's reach, trying instead to use his knives while not touching him, earning Spencer a small cut on his forearm and one on the opposite bicep. But finally the man went to kick him, a foot to the gut that Spencer took. The man must have thought Spencer could only charge his hands. That was his mistake. Spencer let the charge go over his body and up the man's foot, zapping him and taking him down.

A high pitched scream brought Spencer back to the girl. He started to spin at the same time that the man from the dumpster leapt directly onto his back. There was no time to think, no time to blink, before a cord wrapped around Spencer's neck. This man was smarter, though. He tugged back so that he was resting against the dumpster, preventing Spencer from charging him. "Y' charge me, y' charge de girl." The man snarled in his ear. Spencer's hands were at his neck, trying to grab for the cord, trying to get a way to get it off. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe! Fighting for air, Spencer could still hear the girl crying and Morgan shouting his name, but he couldn't focus on them. His legs scrabbled to kick back, to take out anything he could behind him, but the Assassin had moved so that all Spencer hit was the dumpster.

He couldn't charge, but Spencer wasn't completely without weapons. Groping a hand up, he grabbed at one of the hands holding the cord, pushing his fingers at the cloth until skin touched skin. The man wasn't afraid, thinking that Spencer couldn't charge. That wasn't what he was doing, though. With the skin to skin contact helping, Spencer used his empathy, projecting a blast of fear as strong as he could manage, taking what he felt from the girl and feeding it to the man. It was enough of a shock that the man's hands relaxed momentarily and Spencer took full advantage of that. He made his whole body go limp, dropping down toward the ground in a way Morgan had taught him to do. It momentarily choked him once more, but it brought the man down with him and allowed Spencer to roll them both to the side, away from the dumpster. As soon as they were clear, he charged his skin, shocking the man and knocking him out.

The minute the hands loosened around his neck, Spencer grabbed the cord and threw it away, rolling over to his hands and knees to gasp and cough, trying to draw air into his abused lungs. His head was swimming and he was wheezing, but he looked up to try and see if the child was still behind the dumpster. She was. Spencer made himself crawl toward her, lifting one hand when he got close. "It's okay." He said in a low, hoarse voice. Another cough took him and it took a second to breathe past it. When it was done, he tried to speak again, his throat protesting to the attempt. "It's okay, child. Shh. No one's going to hurt you now." He tried to send feelings of calm and safety to her. As best as he could, he tried to remember how he'd seen JJ calm a hysterical Henry and he used that knowledge to try to talk down the child now.

It seemed to be working. Slowly but surely her crying tapered off and she uncurled, looking up at him. Spencer saw then what he hadn't been able to see before. This was no typical child. She was most definitely a mutant, but the poor girl looked anywhere from six to seven years old. Her skin was a dark, dark green, as was her hair, but it was her hands that caught his attention. It looked like her hand was split into a Y, as if she had only two wide fingers instead of a regular palm and fingers, but towards the top they split into separate fingers with small claws, much like a chameleons. A glance down showed him her feet were the same way.

A sound behind Spencer alerted him to someone moving and he reacted instinctively, placing his back toward the girl and lifting a hand full of electricity. He felt the girl dart forward, wrapping tightly around him, arms and legs coming around his waist in an obvious bid for protection from what she perceived as a new threat. Spencer quickly relaxed when he saw it was just Morgan. As the power faded from Spencer, Morgan dropped down to the ground by him, a hand lifting toward his throat. "Jesus, Reid. Are you fucking crazy?"

"It's been…suggested." Spencer wheezed a little. He brought a hand to his throat and touched it, coming away wet. Damn. He was bleeding. He braced one hand on Morgan and started to rise when he saw one of the assassins starting to rise from the ground. Spencer moved quickly, flinging his arm out in front of Morgan to keep him back while lifting the other one and gathering power. "Stick by me, child." He told the little girl. "Don't let go." Her limbs tightened around him as she clung much like a lizard would and Spencer felt something wrap around him; a quick look down showed a dark green tail wrapping around his thigh like a brace and he knew he was right in thinking she had a chameleon physiology. Then his attention was back on the two men rising from the ground. "Just let us go." He told them. "Don't do this."

"I will enjoy killing y'." Said the one who had choked him.

Another voice spoke down the alley, drawing all eyes and almost instantly easing some of Spencer's tension. "Lay one more hand on him and y'll be de one to die." Bella Donna Boudreaux said in a hard, cold voice. The woman came strolling down the alley as regal as any queen in court, dressed casually in slacks and a shirt, yet still displaying her Guild colors proudly. Behind her, silent in the shadows, Spencer's empathy told him there were two more men and most likely there were more he couldn't see or sense yet. She never went anywhere alone.

Belle strode straight to Spencer, ignoring the electrical ball he drew back in to himself. She was fearless as she put her back to the two men and stood directly in front of Spencer. One of her hands came up to touch his throat, his blood staining her fingertips. Then she lifted her eyes to his. "Tell me what happened to y' so I know if'n I need to kill de _connards_ dat did dis."

Spencer knew the threat wasn't an idle one. He put his hand on Morgan's arm, sending him a burst of reassurance and then warning, hoping he would understand to stay quiet. He kept his eyes on Belle's face as he answered her, explaining in detail what had happened from feeling the fear to right when she'd arrived. He knew better than to leave out details; that would only earn him trouble. And right now, no matter that he was momentarily safe, that could change with the blink of an eye and he knew that.

When he was done, Belle turned toward the two men. "Explain."

"She was at the LeFevre property." One of the men said. Apparently that made sense, because Belle nodded slightly. She turned to look at Spencer and the look she gave him had him taking a step back. "No." He knew he was stepping in murky ground here but there was no way he could back down. "No, Belle. I won't let it happen."

"Y'r telling me _non_ on dis?" One of her delicate eyebrows arched, her beautiful face calm and clear.

"I am." One of his hands came to rest protectively over the limbs still clutching at him. He felt the girl's terror as she hid her face against his back and it strengthened his convictions. "I won't let it happen."

"And what about when y' leave? De petit has no family here. She is alone on de streets."

Spencer met her gaze with a firm one of his own. "I won't leave her here."

"Are y' claiming responsibility fo' her? T'ink hard b'fore y' answer dis question." She warned him.

Even with the implications behind her question, he knew what his answer had to be. There was no way he would leave this girl here to be murdered as soon as he was gone. "Yes." He answered without hesitation.

For a moment Belle looked at him, searching his gaze. Then she gave a small nod. "So be it, den." Once more she turned to the two assassins. "De petit is under de protection of de Guild, now. Let it be known dat any who touch her risk punishment such as I see fit." Abruptly her face hardened and she was every inch a deadly looking woman. "Now, get back to de House and await y'r punishment."

"M'dame?" One of the men stupidly said.

The sound of Belle's slap echoed down the alley. "Y' dare question me?" She snarled at him. "By rights, I ought to kill y'." Raising the hand that still bore Spencer's blood, she shoved it in his face. "By shedding de blood of m' husband, y' attack me. Is dat what y' wanted to do, Luis? Was dat what y' wanted?"

"_Non_, m'dame." Panic was bright in the man's voice.

"I suggest y' run, _homme_. De both of y'. Now."

The two left quickly, almost melting into the shadows as they hurried away. Belle paid them no more attention. She turned fully back to Spencer again and everything about her softened. She lifted both hands up to his neck, tipping his chin up. From her pocket she pulled a cloth, pressing it against his neck. "It aint too bad. Y'll be sore fo' a while, but y' keep it clean and y'll be fine." She proclaimed. "Y' stop by and see Mattie and she'll give y' somet'ing fo' it, cher."

"_Merci_, Belle." Spencer told her with a smile.

Apparently Morgan had finally had enough. He stepped past Spencer's hand, moving up to look at the both of them. "Okay, someone explain to me what's going on here." He looked from one to the other, his expression clearly saying he demanded an answer. "What's going on? And did I hear right? Did she call you 'husband', Reid?"

Belle looked Morgan over from head to toe before giving Spencer a look of amusement. "Who's dis?"

"This is my friend and one of my coworkers, Derek Morgan. Morgan, this is Bella Donna Boudreaux, Remy's wife and, by extension and customs that are extremely complicated, my honorary wife as well." Spencer tried to explain. Though Remy had explained it, somewhat, Spencer didn't think now was the time to get into that. At a later time he would try to explain it all to Morgan.

Belle let out a husky laugh and grinned at Morgan. "Remy's m' husband and Spencer's his partner. By old laws and customs, and by de agreements we made, Spencer's m' husband as well. Maybe not by modern laws, but by laws older dan de modern ones. Now, husband, let me see our child."

Those two words, 'our child', told him he'd been right in what he thought she'd meant by claiming responsibility. Damn this town and its traditions and customs and laws that no outsider knew. Yet he wasn't an outsider anymore. By way of Remy and Belle, he was part of this extended family and all the drama and troubles that came with it. By their view, he couldn't claim lack of knowledge on these customs or laws because it was Belle and Remy's jobs to make sure he knew and understood. Though Remy was teaching him, he had by no means taught Spencer everything yet. There was still so much he had to learn. Because of that, Remy had been beyond worried when he found out Spencer was going to New Orleans on a case. He'd called Belle to make sure she would be looking out for him while he was down there, something that had rankled with Spencer but he hadn't protested it. Not that it would have done him any good.

It took gentle coaxing to get the girl to come around to at least his side. "Everything's okay now." He told her gently. "No one's going to hurt you."

"Petit, do y' know who I am?" Belle asked her gently. The little girl peeked out from Spencer and looked at her before nodding. Belle smiled at her. "Dat's _bon_, petit. Den y' know dat, when I say y'r safe, I mean it, _oui_?" This time the girl nodded a little quicker. "Now, why don't y' come and see me fo' a minute and we talk, _d'accord_? We'll talk about women t'ings dat de men here don't need to hear, yeah. Y' just come with me fo' a bit."

It amazed Spencer to see how easily the girl made the transfer to Belle's arms. The woman settled her easily on her hip as if it were natural for her. Like this, Spencer got a better look at the girl and he realized her skin had changed. Instead of the dark green, it was brighter now. Yes, the girl's physical mutation definitely was chameleon related, though judging by her size and his estimate of her age, her powers wouldn't have manifested yet. She was nowhere near puberty.

Seeing him looking at her, the girl bowed her head, lowering her eyes, and Spencer could feel the shame in her. He followed his heart, bringing a hand up to tuck some of her hair behind her ear. "Don't hide your face, honey. You're a beautiful little girl." He brought that hand down, cupping her chin and tipping her head up so that she looked at him again. Then he smiled sweetly at her. "Don't be ashamed of who you are. Be proud of who you are. You're a very, very special little girl."

"_Oui_, y' are, petit." Belle reassured her. She pressed a kiss to the girl's temple. Then she looked up at Spencer and smiled. "Y' come and pick her up in two hours' time from Mattie's. I'll get her cleaned up and with some fresh clothes. On m' honor, on m' life, no harm will come to her. Y' go get y'rself cleaned up and go give husband a call." Leaning in, Belle gave Spencer a firm kiss. Then she pulled back and started to walk away. "_Je t'aime, mon mari_."

"_Je t'aime, ma femme._" Spencer called back automatically. When she was gone, he pinched the bridge of his nose to try and combat the headache. He opened his eyes to find Morgan staring at him, a look of utter confusion on his face. He let out a sigh and tried to smile at him. "Come on, Morgan. Let's get to the hotel. Once were there, I'll explain as best as I can. Then I need to call Remy and explain to him we've apparently adopted a child."


	4. Who We Used to Be

_"Amnesia Remy"_

_The first two sections have been sitting on my computer for at least a year. I just spell checked them and then added the rest to finish off this prompt :)_

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><p>Spencer was at work when a call came in to his private cell phone. He was sitting at his desk in the bullpen, working on his reports, when his pocket rang. He looked down at his pocket with surprise. The only time his cell phone rang was when it was the team or Remy. Any other calls he received always went to his home phone. But Remy never called him during the daytime. He always called in at night, to give him better odds of catching Spencer while he wasn't working.<p>

When Spencer pulled the phone out, he didn't recognize the number. Brow furrowed, he flipped the phone open and put it up to his ear. "Dr. Reid."

_"__Hello, Dr. Reid."_ A warm, female voice answered. _"__I'm very sorry to disturb you. I hope I'm not interrupting anything important."_

Spencer sat back in his chair. "Not technically. How can I help you?" He saw the strange look he was getting from Emily and he shrugged, not quite sure himself what was going on. Then the woman spoke again and his full attention was on his phone. _"__I know you don't know me, but my name is Ororo. You and I share a mutual friend."_

Every inch of Spencer went on alert. He sat up straighter and his hand tightened on his phone. "I know who you are, Ms. Munroe." A thousand questions begged to be asked. But considering where he was, only one came out. "Is he okay?" Even that short question was enough to further arouse the curiosity of the people watching him. Emily and Derek both gave up the pretense of doing other things and they were openly watching him now. Spencer ignored them. Right now there was something much more pressing and much more important.

Ororo's answer came quickly. _"__He is alive and, so far as we can tell, uninjured."_ She reassured him. There was on time for him to feel relief before she continued. _"__However, something _is_wrong. We were visited by a group of his former associates. During that visit, something seems to have been done that we don't quite understand. Our friend seems to be stuck in his mind somewhere back in the time that you knew him, before he knew us."_

"Shit." The uncharacteristic curse slipped from Spencer.

_"__Our sentiments exactly. We've been forced to lock him in a room to prevent him from vanishing on us. Once, my brother gave me your name and number and told me that, if anything ever happened to him, you were the number to call. Right now, you are the only person I could think of that might be able to help him. He would recognize you and trust you. With that trust, we might be able to help him."_

There was no need for Spencer to even stop to think about it. He was already moving, closing the file on his desk and starting to put things away. "I'll be on the first flight out." He told her. Grabbing his messenger bag, he lifted it and put a few things inside. "I just need to speak to my boss to arrange the time off and then I'll head to the airport. I'll call you back to let you know my arrival time. Can you arrange to have someone pick me up from the airport?"

_"__I will do so myself. Thank you, Spencer. Thank you so very much."_

"Of course. I'll return your call shortly."

Spencer hung up his phone and rose to his feet. He was stuffing his phone into his bag when Derek called out "Reid? Is everything okay?"

"I don't know." Spencer answered honestly. He pulled the strap of his bag over his head and looked to his friends. He had to give them some kind of answer, even if he had to be careful about how he worded this. "A friend of mine is…he's sick and they're not quite sure what's wrong with him, but it's bad and I need to get out there."

"Go ahead, Reid." Another voice called. Spencer spun to find David standing on the upper walk, leaning on the bars and looking down at him. The senior profiler gestured towards Aaron's office, which Spencer saw was empty, and said "Hotch had a meeting with Erin. I'll let him know you've got an emergency. You take all the time you need, just check in and keep us informed."

Gratitude ran through Spencer. He clenched his hands on the strap of his bag and managed a weak smile. "Thanks, Rossi." He breathed out. He had no idea just how much his body language was screaming out his worry to his friends. All Spencer could focus on was getting out to New York and finding out what was going on with Remy. Even as he bid his friends goodbye and hurried over towards the elevator, Spencer's mind kept replaying the conversation with Ororo, running over everything again and again. It wasn't hard to figure out what her discreet words meant. Someone had attacked the mansion. Judging by the 'old associates' part, it had to be the Marauders, meaning that Sinister was most likely involved as well. If Remy didn't remember any of the X-Men, that had to mean that Sinister had messed with his mind somehow. Why would he make Remy forget his time with the X-Men, though? _To make him come back, obviously. If he doesn't remember working with the X-men, then he's probably at a time in his memories where he worked for Sinister. This is the man's latest ploy to bring Remy back to him._

Well, the hell if it was going to work. Spencer's spine firmed and determination filled him. He marched out of the elevator when it stopped and headed straight outside, hurrying to catch the bus. He had ridden it in to work today, thankfully. That meant he didn't have to worry about his car now. While he waited for the bus, he pulled out his phone and started making calls, arranging his flight out of here. He would go to Remy and he would do everything he could to help his friend. Sinister wasn't going to get Remy back; not now, not ever.

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><p>Four hours later, Spencer was impatiently making his way away from the baggage area. He wore his messenger bag and carried his travel-bag in hand, trying so hard not to let his irritation show. His travel had proved to be a bigger pain in the ass than he'd originally thought it would be. Upon arriving at the airport, he realized that he was still armed and he had to call up Derek to ask his friend to bring him a proper case for his weapon. Traveling without it never even crossed his mind. Too many things had happened to him and to other members of the team, even when they were on a vacation, for him to entertain the idea of being unarmed somewhere. Thankfully, Derek had hurried over, bringing him the proper case needed to lock away his firearm as well as a suitcase to transfer his stuff into so that he could check it all into checked baggage.<p>

When he arrived here in New York, it took a bit for Spencer to get his baggage and to run through all the things necessary. But finally he had his bag back and his gun discreetly in his messenger bag and he could turn his attention to the important things. His eyes scanned the terminal, looking for the one person he needed, one that would stand out amongst the crowd. Sure enough, it didn't take him long to spot her. A beautiful woman with dark skin and white hair? Ororo was definitely not a woman to blend in to the crowds. She drew appreciative eyes from all over. Spencer spotted her and quickly slipped his way around people to rush over to her.

She smiled when he reached her. Much to his appreciation, she didn't offer her hand, though Remy had told him how touchy she was. He had no idea that Remy had once warned her how little Spencer liked being touched by people he didn't know, or how awkward he felt being touched even by people he _did _know. "Spencer. It is so very good to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you from Remy." She said warmly.

Manners bade Spencer be just as polite in return. It took a lot of effort for him to manage it when his mind was so full of worry. Still, his Mom had raised him to be respectful, especially to a woman, and he drummed up as much of a smile as he could. "The pleasure's all mine, Ms. Munroe. Remy speaks of you often, as well." That was the best that Spencer could manage. His smile faded and he couldn't hold in his question anymore. "How is he?"

"He is well. The same as before, but no worse." With one hand, Ororo gestured for him to follow her, leading him through the crowded terminal. "While his memory is still altered, he seems to be suffering nothing else. At least, as far as we can tell. He does not trust us, nor does he want us near him. He seems to believe that this is some sort of trap on our part. Physically, he won't let us close. Mentally, he's raised his shields up as high as possible and any attempt to touch them is quickly rebuffed."

"I bet." Spencer said wryly. He knew what Remy's shields could be like and just how nasty they could get.

Someone materialized out of the crowd on Ororo's other side, startling Spencer slightly. It was a young man with blond hair, who smiled brightly at Ororo, yet sounded serious as he said "Things are clear in here. Nothing so far."

"Good." Ororo murmured. She caught Spencer looking at them and she was smiling once more. She lifted a hand, tucking it into the crook of his elbow. Immediately he crooked his arm and straightened his posture, 'escorting' her. That only made her smile warm. "Do not worry, Spencer. We are simply taking precautions after today's…visit."

Ah. A logical plan. Part of Spencer relaxed now that he understood while the rest of him tensed in an entirely new way. Every bit of him went on alert. If he hadn't been so caught up in worry about Remy, he would've already thought of this. It was logical to assume that there'd could end up being trouble. "Very smart." Spencer murmured back to her. His eyes scanned the area as they stepped out of the terminal. He let Ororo lead him over towards the parking lot. It wasn't hard to figure out which vehicle was there for them. The person standing at the side of one SUV gave it away. Though Spencer didn't know him personally, he knew him through Remy and through the little information he'd gleaned on his own afterwards. Scott Summers, aka Cyclops. He was standing at attention beside the SUV, clearly watching around them for any trouble.

When they got close, Scott opened the door to the backseat, still watching around them. Spencer let Ororo bundle him inside without any fuss. He slipped into the backseat, her at his side, and watched as the door was shut and then Scott and the other man went to the front seats. Scott climbed in behind the wheel. In no time flat, the car was on its way out of the parking lot and down the road.

Ororo turned in her seat once they were out on the road. She reached out, putting her hand on Spencer's knee. "Thank you so much for coming, Spencer, and for following us out of there without asking any of the questions I'm sure you have. I know that a lot of this must not make much sense right now."

"Actually, it makes plenty of sense, ma'am." Spencer countered. "If I had been thinking clearly on the flight, I would've realized it all sooner. Bringing an escort to retrieve me was a smart plan. Let's just hope that no one realized who you were out to fetch. If we're lucky, they won't realize it until after I've arrived." He turned his body towards Ororo, judging her to be the best source of information right now. "I trust in you all to protect us. I'll leave that to you and your friends. What I'd like is if you could describe to me what exactly happened to Remy."

"We're not entirely sure." Ororo said. She turned as well, to better face him while she answered. "We were all in our own areas. We weren't alerted to any trouble until we all heard…we heard Remy scream." She stumbled over that part and pain flashed across her features. "When we reached the outside, we attacked as a group and separated the two. Logan picked up Remy and got him inside. He was unconscious for almost four hours with no obvious signs of physical trauma aside from a few bruises. When he woke, it was abrupt and he was on the instant defensive."

"He tried to fight his way out." The blond from the front threw in. He'd turned in his seat to watch them. "He almost blasted Logan out of the way. It took a good fifteen minutes for Logan to corner him enough for Hank to sedate him. Then we got him into a secure room."

Spencer's eyes went wide. "You sedated him?"

The only one out of the group to understand Spencer's reaction, Ororo reassuringly put her hand on his arm and squeezed. "Our doctor has a record of a sedative combination that he reacts well to, do not worry. He has used it before with no lasting effects."

Oh thank Goodness. Spencer relaxed slightly again. Remy didn't react to medications like most people and sedatives were more difficult for him than most. He either processed them too fast for them to do anything but make him sleepy, or they could have the complete opposite effect and hype him up, or they could slow his body to dangerous levels. Reactions like that were the main reasons that Remy essentially avoided any medication of any kind unless he absolutely had to. He tended to stick to a natural cure if he had to take something.

"He had just woken before we left to retrieve you." Ororo continued. "He was still in the same state of mind as he was before. Only, angrier now that he's being contained."

Scott scoffed, the first sound he'd made since they got in. "That's one way of putting it." He said sarcastically. There was just a hint of humor to his tone. "He turned the air blue with curses and then he started hitting on my wife at the same time as trying to convince us all to let him out of there. Then he just sort of, melted."

The choice of word surprised Spencer. "Melted?" Then it clicked in his head just what that had to mean. A smile curved his lips. "Oh. The boneless look, right? Relaxed, loose, and looking like he's almost asleep?"

Scott looked up in the mirror and flashed a grin at Spencer. "That's the one."

How many times had Spencer seen that look on his friend? More so, how many people had actually fallen for that look? It always amazed and amused Spencer that people really believed that Remy was as stupid and lazy as he could pretend to be. Spencer knew better. Remy was one of the smartest people that he'd ever met. It was just hidden down underneath and rarely let out to the surface for people to see.

Lost in thought, Spencer didn't notice that something had been said to him. Nor did he see Ororo wave a hand and gesture for him to be left alone. He settled back in his seat and turned his eyes to stare sightlessly out the window. As the miles passed by, he tried to think of every possibility of what could've happened to Remy and how he might be able to fix it. In reality, he knew he wouldn't be able to do anything until he actually got there and was able to truly assess the situation. There were just too many variables. But it didn't stop him from thinking, and it didn't stop him from worrying.

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><p>The rest of the ride was taken in silence. When they arrived, Spencer gathered his bags and took no prodding at all to follow Ororo inside. She offered to take him to Remy's room so that he could drop it off. He declined. Right at the moment, all he wanted was Remy. "I'd like to see him first, please."<p>

"Of course, Spencer. This way."

The group took off down the hallway. Behind him, Spencer heard the blond murmur quietly to Scott, asking him "You sure it's safe to bring some stranger in like this? He's an old friend of Gambit, Scott. We don't know anything about him."

"Ro trusts him, and she's willing to vouch for him. That's enough for me." Scott returned, just as quietly.

Spencer mulled those words over as he followed Ororo into an elevator. The fact that this woman he'd never met was willing to trust him and vouch for him, based solely off of a friendship she'd only heard about secondhand from Remy, was both amazing and humbling. It said a lot for her love and respect for Remy. Because it wasn't just Remy's life she was trusting him with here; it was the lives and secrets of the rest of the household, too. He knew the elevator was taking him down into the lower levels of the mansion. The part that no one else was really supposed to know about. He could've told them that he already knew about it. Not just the layout, but the weaknesses in their security, the placement of every camera, and the best exits. All things that he didn't really care about, personally. They were just things that Remy had told him over the years. Things that Remy immediately set about learning in any place that he stayed at. Usually, he'd talk those things out with Spencer, just casually, and Spencer's memory logged the bits of information away simply because that was what his brain did with any knowledge he came across.

Once in the lower levels, he was led down another hallway, they made a right turn, and then down another. Spencer laid their directions on the mental map he had from things Remy had said and a nasty suspicion built. They had said they'd contained him somewhere. Could they really have put him _there_? No, no. Of course they wouldn't. Not one of their own. They wouldn't put one of their own members in a cell. Would they? _If he's acting violently and it's the only way to contain him, yes. Of course they would. It's the logical thing to do. It keeps him contained and safe. Can you fault them for that?_

His suspicions were confirmed only moments later when Ororo took him into a room that was very obviously a control room for the holding cells. Even understanding that the cells were the smart place to hold him, Spencer still felt irritated on his friend's behalf. It would be a hell these people obviously didn't understand for Remy to be locked away in there. The need to get to him was even more urgent now. Enough so that Spencer didn't even really focus on any of the other people in the room. His eyes lifted to the screens that were displaying Remy's cell and his whole attention went to his friend.

Seeing Remy lounging on the bed had Spencer sighing in relief. He was okay. Physically, he really was okay. He was stretched out flat on his back, one leg bent and the other one dangling off the edge. One arm was lifted so that his hand rested behind his head and his other hand was absently dancing a card from finger to finger.

A sudden voice startled Spencer out of his thoughts and brought his attention back to the room around him. "Hello, Spencer. It's a pleasure to meet you." Charles Xavier held his hand out to Spencer, and he spoke in a very formal voice. Spencer looked him over while lifting his hand and giving his usual little wave. He missed the surprised looks that got him. Charles didn't even miss a beat. He just folded his hands back into his lap and fixed Spencer with a steady stare. "I assume that Ororo has explained the situation to you in its entirety?"

"Yes, sir." Spencer nodded, eyes flashing up to the monitor again and then back to Charles.

"She believes that you are our best bet in helping our young friend." What exactly he felt about that, he didn't say, nor did his tone give any hint to. "I feel I must warn you before you go in there. Remy is…volatile. While she assures me that the two of you have known one another for quite a while, you should still prepare yourself. He is not the young man we've known these past few years. So far as we can tell, he is somewhere in his memories before he ever came to live at the mansion."

"I knew him for quite a while before he came here, sir. I'm sure we'll be fine." Enough of this jabbering. Spencer chewed on his lip and looked back up to the monitor. Remy was lazily tossing his card up now and catching it again, over and over. The need to be in there grew even stronger. Spencer looked back at Charles. "May I go in there now, please?"

Charles watched him for just a second longer, something passing over his eyes. Then his expression cleared and he nodded. "Please. If you can help him, we would all appreciate it."

Eagerly, Spencer dropped his suitcase against the wall, though he kept his messenger bag on. It was Ororo who led him from the room. Spencer followed her, but he stopped at the doorway. After a quick debate, he turned and looked at the room again, a shy half-smile quirking his lips. "I don't suppose I could persuade you all not to watch this, could I?" At the head shake from Charles, he sighed and his cheeks heated just a little. "Of course not. Well, then, at the least I would implore you not to interfere, or to take anything you see seriously. No matter what you see, just stay back. I promise you that Remy, in any state of mind, will never seriously harm me."

As he left the room, Logan grinned and said. "Something tells me this is going to be _really_ interesting."

Out in the hallway, Spencer waited as Ororo input the code to the holding cell. When it beeped, she smiled at him and wished him "Good luck." He smiled back his thanks, took a deep breath, and then he pulled the door open and was stepping inside, letting the door slide shut behind him.

* * *

><p>He knew that Remy noticed him instantly. However, the Cajun said nothing at first, simply lying there as the door clicked shut. He tossed his card again and caught it once more. This time, the card vanished with a small flourish of his hand. Just a hint of his eyes flashed over top his sunglasses and a devilish grin curved his lips. "Well, well, well. What kinda trick is dis now, hm?" Remy tipped his head and looked up to the corner where the camera was at. "Aint y' de naughty one, Professor. Y' tryin' to pull off some trick on po' Gambit. Y'r gon' have t' do better'n dat, <em>monsieur<em>. Gambit knows he aint real. Y'all wouldn't never let a Fed in y'r lil hidey hole here."

Spencer shifted his feet and hooked his hands into his pockets. "I'm not real? That's news to me." He looked down at himself and then back up at Remy. "How exactly do you think they're faking my image?"

"Who knows?" Remy said archly. He rolled his head toward Spencer. "A hologram, a shapeshifter, or maybe y'r just in m' head, eh Professor?"

"Don't be absurd." Spencer rolled his eyes. "If the Professor was in your head, you would know it. I'm not a shapeshifter, though I imagine that that's what I would say if I were one, so I have no real argument to offer there. Though, the only shapeshifter I know is Mystique, and do you really picture them bringing her in here just to torment you? As for the hologram, well, that's easy enough to disprove."

"True dat, _mon ami_." In one fluid move, Remy went from lying on the bed to standing beside it, moving so fast that Spencer barely had a chance to blink. A second later Remy was walking towards him. No, not walking. It was too sensual and too predatory a move to be considered simply walking. He was _stalking_ forward with that combination of sex and danger he had once oozed almost constantly. As it always had, it dried up the spit in Spencer's mouth and had his heart thudding just a little faster. But he stayed in place as Remy closed the distance between them. He stopped just inches in front of Spencer. Lifting his hands, he placed them on either side of Spencer's head and he leaned in, smirking when Spencer swallowed audibly. "Why don't we go on an disprove dat theory now, eh cher?" He leaned a little closer, their lips just a breath apart.

Spencer didn't fight the move. He didn't try to get away from Remy or stop what he was doing. Instead, he stared straight into the sunglasses as if he'd be able to see right through them. Indeed, he almost could, this close. He caught a hint of the red flashing behind them. "What're you waiting for?" he murmured, his voice gone just slightly husky. "I've never denied you before. I'm not going to now."

"Mmm. Whoever made y' got dat part of t'ings right." Remy purred as he brushed their lips together. He nipped at Spencer's bottom lip, chuckling when he got a soft gasp. His tongue flicked out to soothe over the same spot. "Y' sure taste like m' Spencer." He pressed his body in closer, pinning Spencer up against the wall. "Y' feel like him, too. Even if y' do look older."

When Remy rolled his hips ever so slightly, grinding their bodies together, Spencer gave a low moan. Unconsciously he lifted his hands and sat them on Remy's hips, hooking his belt loops and holding on. He licked his lips and blinked eyes that felt slightly heavy. "You know, there's an easy way to fix this."

"Mm. An what's dat?"

"If you lowered your shields just slightly, you'd _feel_ it was me."

Remy chuckled lowly and nipped at his lip again. "Right, cher. Just go on an lower m' shields in a house of spooks." He lifted one hand from the wall and brought it to Spencer's face. His fingers traced down Spencer's cheek, over his jawline, and then down to circle his throat. "Y' must t'ink ol' Gambit's real stupid, hehn?"

The hand on his throat gave a careful squeeze. Spencer didn't flinch and didn't try to pull away. He kept his gaze steady on Remy. "You never did like taking the easy way."

"Aint as much fun."

"How am I supposed to convince you, then? And keep in mind…" Spencer lifted his left hand and pointed towards the camera. "We're being watched."

Remy tipped his head just enough that Spencer could see the wink he gave. "Sounds kinky."

"Not mine."

"_Je sais_." Pulling back ever so slightly, Remy let go of Spencer's throat, putting his hand once more on the wall beside Spencer's head. He bit his lip as he looked the man over from head to toe. Some of the mockery had faded from his look. Spencer could see that a part of Remy was finally starting to believe it really was him. The Cajun reached up and took his sunglasses off so that he could stare right into Spencer's eyes. The look in them was deadly serious, at complete odds with the sensuality of his posture and the smirk on his lips. "Tell Gambit somet'in'. Somet'in' dat dey'd never t'ink to ask y'."

The request wasn't anything that surprised Spencer. He'd thought about this and planned for it. It had to be something that was private, a moment between just the two of them, and something that he never would've shared with anyone. But it also had to be something that he didn't mind his audience hearing. That had taken a bit of careful planning. He thought he had just the thing, though. All it would take was some careful wording so that maybe the others wouldn't understand as much while still clear enough for Remy to understand. First, though, he had to know something important. "Where you're at in your mind, how old am I to you? I need to make sure I give you something that you'll actually remember."

"Twenty two." Remy said carefully.

Perfect. Spencer knew just the thing to say and he didn't even have to censor it. He let go of Remy's hip with his right hand and he reached up, brushing some of Remy's hair behind his ear. He stroked his fingers over the earring that looped over the top of that ear, sparkling slightly with the small ruby that was there. For a second he let himself just play with it as he'd done countless times before. "I gave you this." The corners of his mouth tugged up with a reminiscent smile. "It was so pretty. One of the only times I've bought something simply because it was pretty. But I found it in a store in DC, right after I graduated the academy, and the little stone made me think of your eyes. I've always loved your eyes. So I bought it and I held on to it until you came to see me again, just a month later. I gave it to you with a promise." Spencer let go of the earring and cupped Remy's face, bringing their eyes together once more. "No matter where I go, no matter what I'm doing, all you ever have to do is call and I'll be there. You and Mom are the single most important people in my life. Nothing and no one is more important than the two of you. That's part of the promise I gave you with this earring. You've never taken it off since then."

It was there in Remy's eyes; he believed him. Not completely. A small part was still hesitant. But he believed him enough that he took what was, in his mind, a huge risk.

Spencer felt Remy's charm reach out for him and he opened his shields to the familiar touch and offered up his emotions. He heard Remy's gasp, felt the shock course through him like a jolt, and then Spencer was being gently gathered up in a pair of arms that he had always been able to count on to hold him up. His Cajun's posture was still a pose, one that was there for the people outside the room to see, but the emotions that coursed from him to Spencer and back again were strong and pure. Spencer felt the sensation of Remy increase in his mind, paired with a twist of emotions that made a request Spencer knew well. He opened up the rest of his shields just enough to wrap them around Remy, bringing them in their own private, shielded mental bubble. Then he reached out with his mind voice. _/I told you it was me/_

_/Had to be sure, me/_ Came Remy's reply. _/Be just like M. Essex t' fuck wi' m' head dis way. Create all dis, jus' to fuck wi' me/_

The accent was thicker, even in his mind voice, and that told Spencer just what kind of place his friend was in. He slipped his arms around Remy's waist and held him just as close as he was being held. _/Well, it's me. I'm here, Rem/_

_/What happened?/_

Quickly Spencer closed his eyes and ran through the events for Remy. Conversations go much faster mind to mind than out loud. It took just a moment for him to explain everything and for Remy to process it. When he was done, the man was furious. His mind voice was tinted in hues of red, both dark and bright. Anger and pain. _/He fucked wi' m' head. Merde!/_

Spencer sent love and used it to soothe down the anger he felt. _/That's why I'm here. Your friends called me to help you/_ He paused and let his amusement color his next words, hoping to draw some humor from Remy. _/Though I don't think they realize what kind of help I'll give. I think they assumed I'd get you to trust them enough to let one of the telepath's here help you/_

That earned him a snort from Remy. _/Yeah, right. Aint dat stupid, me/_ He leaned in, bending his head so that he could nuzzle against Spencer's jawline and down under his ear. Still keeping Spencer in his arms, he twisted their bodies, rolling them so that they ended with Remy's back against the wall. He nudged at Spencer's arms until they came up to circle his neck. That left room for Remy's hands to curl over Spencer's hips and pull him in close, moving him so that Spencer was straddling his thigh. The pose was so blatantly sexual that Spencer couldn't help how deeply he blushed. But he didn't move. He stayed there, even turning his face in just a little until his and Remy's cheeks pressed against each other. Remy hummed his approval and his body relaxed just a little more. He rubbed his cheek over Spencer's, practically purring. _/Aint lettin' none of dem in. Don't trust dem like I do y'. Y' always set me on straight. I take it dey don't know y'r a path?/_

That made Spencer smile. He wondered if the people watching had figured it out by now. They hadn't known before, so far as he knew, but they had to now .What would they think about finding out he was a path? A _dual_ path? Telepath's weren't exactly rare, as was proven by the amount of them in this house alone. But a telepath who was also an extremely strong empath, that _was_ rare. Their shock would probably grow once they realized that, not only was he a mutant, he was a mutant _FBI agent_. He just hoped he'd be able to convince them all about the importance of keeping it a secret. If the wrong person found out, the trouble it could cause him would be immense. For no one else but Remy would he have taken this kind of risk. But for Remy, it was more than worth it. _/From my understanding, they don't know anything about me but my first name. You gave that and my number to Ororo in case of emergencies, with the request to call me if anything serious ever happened. I don't think they even knew I was a Fed until you said it a bit ago. They probably wouldn't have let me in the lower levels of the house if they'd known. Not that that would've stopped me. I still would've found my way down here. You told me the layout and such to this place when you first moved in/_

Humor filled Remy's mind with tints of yellow. _/I bet I did. Gotta make sure y' always know how to reach me, _non_?/_ A tendril of worry snaked through him. _/Y' know how to get us outta here, cher? De door locked behind y' when y' came in/_

Spencer curled his fingers through Remy's hair, toying idly with the loose strands. _/They'll let us out when I ask, don't worry. I don't know the X-Men well enough to know how they'll all react to things, but I do know from you that there are a few here that you trust implicitly and I saw a few of them out there. They'll make sure we're not locked in here/_

_/Can we get out, den? I can't relax in here, cher. I wanna go get comfortable and get dis fixed and we can't do dat here in dis cell/_

There was no way that Remy would relax enough to lower his shields here in the cells. He'd lowered the outer layer, yes, but that only allowed their emotions to travel back and forth and for them to converse with mind speech. Everything else in his mind was still protected by the rest of his shielding. It was a risk to open that first layer, which was why he'd been so hesitant to do it. A strong telepath could battle against the rest of his shields and, though they might not get in, they could cause serious damage, both to Remy and to themselves. Spencer knew because he'd been the one to help Remy get his shields to this strength and he'd been the one to help him set up the traps in there to keep him safe. That was part of what really worried Spencer now. What had Sinister done that he'd been able to get past all that to do this kind of damage? Or, had he been trying to do something else but because the shields had fought back, they'd changed what he'd intended on doing? There were so many questions that had to be answered. The sooner they could get somewhere safe and private, the better.

Well, there was one easy way to do this. Spencer sighed and laid his head down on Remy's shoulder. Then he reached out with his mind until he found just what he was looking for. He didn't reach to Charles, not quite sure he wanted to touch the telepath after some of the things he'd heard from Remy. Instead, he reached to one that he knew Remy trusted and who probably wouldn't freak out too much at the mind touch.

A moment later he smiled against Remy's neck. "They'll be here to let us out momentarily."

"_Merci Dieu._"

Because he was still drawing his own shields back up, Spencer was open just enough to catch a stray thought that was broadcast with a wave of anger and jealousy. It only took him a quick look to realize where it came from and that the person it came from was getting closer. His body tensed before he quickly started to try and pull away. Of course, Remy's arms just tightened around him, holding him in place. "What is it?" Remy asked sharply. His body was braced, ready to move in an instant, and he was already curving to try and slip himself between Spencer and the door.

The young genius didn't give up on tugging, though he knew it was useless. Remy wouldn't let go until he was damn good and ready. Spencer pushed against his chest. "You need to let go of me, Remy. Now."

"Why?"

The door to their room was yanked open and Spencer got a clear view of a furious and beautiful woman, who clearly demanded "What the hell is goin' on in here?" before he found his view obstructed by Remy's body. The Cajun had whipped them around, quick as could be, and Spencer was pressed back into the corner of the room with Remy in front of him, hands held out at the ready. He would've reached for his cards already if Spencer hadn't tried to restrain him. "No, Remy!"

The woman that Spencer knew had to be Rogue was sneering furiously at them. She made a big mistake, taking a single step into the room. Spencer just barely managed to catch Remy's wrist when the man reached for a card. He held on tightly and once more said "_No_!" He wrapped his other arm around Remy's waist and lifted his hand to press flat against his heart. "Remy, stop. She's not a threat. She's your girlfriend!"

Those words were enough to momentarily stun Remy. He stopped trying to pull his wrist free. "_Quoi_?"

"Damn straight ah am!" Rogue snapped. "So get your damn hands off mah man, before ah do it for yah!"

That was the wrong route to take. Remy matched her glare for glare and his voice turned hard and cold. "Y' watch y'r mouth when y' talk to him, _femme_, or Remy gonna watch it f' y'. Don't no one talk to Spencer dat way."

They were saved any further drama when someone called out Rogue's name. Others were suddenly slipping into the room. Spencer paired up who he saw with memories of what Remy had told him and he figured out who each person was. The woman who was drawing Rogue back had to be Jean Grey. The guys that stood between them were very Scott and Logan. Outside the room, once Rogue and Jean were out of the door and Spencer could see again, were Charles Xavier and Hank McCoy. There were others, Spencer could sense, but they weren't really important at the moment. What was important was the furious man in front of him. Spencer knew that Remy's need to defend had been triggered and he wasn't going to just back down now. Not with the place his head was at. At that time, defending and protecting Spencer had been one hell of a strong urge for him.

Before things could grow any worse, and before Remy managed to piss off anyone else, Spencer took matters into his own hands. He used Remy's distraction towards the two men watching them and he quickly slipped out from behind him. Of course Remy quickly grabbed him and tried to yank him back. Spencer had been prepared for that, though. He planted his feet firmly and met Remy's furious look with his own firm stare. "No, Remy. I told you, they're not a threat. These people are your _friends_. They're here to help you! They're no threat towards me. Right, gentlemen?" He directed the last part to the others, looking back over his shoulder at them.

Scott looked just a little amused by this whole situation. Though he looked serious, there was a hint of amusement around the edges. "Absolutely. You're both safe here." He reassured them.

Logan nodded his agreement, adding on "We aint after yer boy, Gumbo."

"_Bien._ Y' let us outta here, den?" Remy shot back. His body was still tensed, ready for anything. He most likely wouldn't relax until they were out of the room. In here, it would be too hard for him to fight _and_ defend Spencer. Their escape was blocked not only by the two in the room but by the others that were still standing outside the room.

The tension visibly lessened when they all made their way out of the cell. Remy kept Spencer close and he kept himself between Spencer and the others. The urge to sigh rose up again in Spencer. What was it about Remy that just inspired that reaction in him? The thought was pushed back so that he could focus on more important things, like getting Remy to stop glaring everyone to death. He and Spencer stood off to one side of the room while a group of people were on the other side. Still open the way they were, information passed easily from Remy to Spencer, giving him the names of the people. Charles, Scott, Jean, Logan, Rogue, Ororo, Bobby, Bishop, and Hank. One hell of a crowd for this. Either they were all nosey, or they were really concerned about what Remy might do and they wanted to be prepared for it. Either way, there was no way in hell he was going to get Remy to relax in a group like this. Inside, Remy was prepared for anything. On the outside, he was standing with one leg bent, his hip cocked to the side, and his thumbs hooked into his back pockets. A little smirk curved his lips, blatantly insolent and obviously daring anyone to say anything about it.

Spencer rolled his eyes. He put a calming hand on Remy's shoulder, mentally warning him _/Would you relax a little? I know you know how to be nice and charming. Try employing some of that now/_

_/Against dem?/_ Remy sounded shocked by the idea. _/Why de hell would I do dat? Dey locked me in de damn cells!/_

_/Only because you tried to leave and they feared what might happen to you if you left like this. Especially with Sinister having been the one to attack you. They weren't going to let you go out there and potentially walk right to him, or be too out of it that you ended up captured. Now, be good! Your temper is only going to make an already hard situation even harder. I need them to be relaxed enough to actually let me take you out of this area. Pissing them off isn't going to accomplish that/_

There was a sharp edge to Spencer's mind voice that wasn't typically there unless he was extremely angry, tired, or in pain. Remy knew Spencer well enough to know that he wasn't tired, so it had to be one of the other two. That was enough to have him quickly changing his tune. His stance and expression both lost their insolent edge. He actually swept one hand in front and one behind him and gave the room an elaborate bow. "_Désolé_ f' all dat. Aint every day a person wakes up in a strange place dey didn't know dey was supposed to be in. _Merci_ f' callin' in Spencer f' Gambit."

"It's quite all right, my boy." Charles reassured him. His voice was just as polite as Remy's had been. "Why don't we take this somewhere a little more comfortable before we start talking?"

The blond from the car looked back to Remy and then over Spencer. "Is that a good idea?" he asked.

Spencer smiled at him. "Don't worry, he's not going to bolt when we get up there."

"How can you be so sure?"

Resisting the urge to glare at the man, who didn't know him and therefore couldn't be expected to understand, Spencer carefully drew in a breath and kept his smile on his face. "Because I'm not going to run and he won't leave me behind." He said simply.

In total contrast to Spencer's politeness, Remy snorted. "Course not." The Cajun said firmly. Though he couldn't see, Spencer just knew the man was rolling his eyes when he said that. Then Remy was moving and Spencer knew this was deliberate, a way to rile up Spencer and the others as well. Remy turned and slid up against Spencer's side, one arm going around his waist in a half hug that he then used to tug Spencer in front of him, allowing him to wrap his arms around Spencer from behind. Some might think that he was putting Spencer in a vulnerable position here in a room of people he still considered a threat but Spencer knew better. Remy had proved more than once in their past that he was perfectly capable of defending Spencer while keeping him in the circle of his arms. All he needed was room to throw his cards, after all.

Resting his chin on Spencer's shoulder, the man leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Y'r a troublemaker, Spencer. If Gambit left y' here, it'd be jus' y'r luck to end up in some kinda shit. Den Gambit would have to come back anyways t' save y'r delectable ass."

It was Spencer's turn to roll his eyes. "Shove it, Remy."

"Afterwards, _non_?"

The sly remark brought a few snickers from people around them. Logan grinned around the end of his cigar. "Good to see some things aint changed. Ya still flirt as easy as breathin'."

Remy pulled Spencer in a little closer and deliberately stroked his hand over Spencer's stomach. "When it's m' Spencer? _Mais oui, _M. Wolverine. De day Gambit stops flirtin' wit' Spencer is de day one of us is dead."

"As enlightening as this all is, might I suggest we adjourn to my office?" Charles interrupted.

The walk upstairs was a quiet one. Remy kept himself pressed partially up against Spencer, though he made sure to keep one side of himself free at all times just in case he needed to fight or defend. No one said anything until they were all inside of a fancy looking office and the door was shut. Only then did the group once more turn their full attention back to Remy and Spencer. Remy ignored their attention for a moment as he strolled around the room, looking at everything as he passed. "Nice place y' got here, _monsieur_."

Spencer shook his head. He could see the way Remy was eying everything and he knew the others could too. The Cajun wasn't even bothering to hide his appreciation of the expensive items. Spencer hooked his hands in his pockets and watched Remy stroke a finger across the bottom of a picture that was hanging on the wall. "Are you quite done yet, Remy? Or would you like a little longer to drool over the contents of the room?"

A quick grin was flashed over Remy's shoulder. "Jealous, _mon ami_? Don't worry, y'll get y'r turn soon enough."

"I don't need to drool over any of the items in here."

"Dat aint what Gambit meant." He bit his lip and managed to leer, even with his sunglasses on.

Spencer stared for a second before flushing. _Oh_. Remy had meant that he'd drool over him, not that Spencer could have a chance to drool over the room. His blush deepened a little when Remy let out a husky chuckle. The man abandoned his tour of the room to saunter back towards Spencer. "Love dat color in y'r cheeks." He lifted one finger and trailed it down Spencer's cheek, down his neck, stopping at the top of his shirt. "Love makin' y' flush all over like dat. Y' look so _beau_ wit' dat rose in y'r skin."

It took two tries for Spencer to clear his throat enough to speak properly. "Are you done trying to shock everyone? I think they all realize after that show back in the cell that we've been lovers."

Remy dropped his hand and pouted at him. "_Dieu, _y'r a spoilsport. T'ought y' knew how to have a good time. Y' still know what dat is, _oui_? Or did t'ings change dat much?"

Though he knew that Remy didn't mean the words maliciously, they still struck Spencer sharper than his friend intended. He tried to cover it up by clearing his throat and averting his eyes. "Yes, well, why don't we get this conversation started? I imagine everyone's had a long day and they'd rather like to get this taken care of."

"Indeed." Charles agreed. "Why don't we all take a seat? There may be quite a bit to discuss here, I think."

Spencer moved towards the couch at his right, intending on slipping down and relaxing just a little. Remy caught his arm before he could take more than a step. He turned to look back at him and found that Remy had lost his mask and was looking at him with honest apology on his face. "_Désolé, _Spencer. Wasn't m' intention to hurt y' wi' dat. Was just teasin, me."

"I know." Spencer summoned up a smile. He reached over and patted the hand still holding his arm. "It's fine, Remy."

"Not if it makes y' sad like dat."

The words were pure Remy. They were enough to make Spencer's smile more honest. "I'm fine. I promise, I'll explain later, okay?"

"_D'accord._"

That settled, the two moved to the couch. Spencer wasn't surprised when Remy tucked him into the corner furthest from everyone. He did it casually, so much so that it probably wouldn't have been noticed in a normal setting. However, in this setting, everyone in the room noticed. They were all watching what was going on very carefully. Everything between the two was being closely observed and analyzed. None of them missed that Spencer was tucked as far away from them as possible, or that Remy set himself up between Spencer and the room. There was no doubt that he was placing himself in a defensible position. There was no one at their backs and they had easy access to a window for a quick exit if need be. Once, they had moved like this all the time, and Spencer had been quite used to it. It was habit. Now, he was surprised at how easily he slipped back into that role.

Scott and Jean took the other couch while Logan perched on a chair. The blond haired kid took another chair and Ororo leaned against the desk close to the Professor's side. When they were all settled in, Charles folded his hands down in his lap and took control of the room. "First off, I'd like to take the time to make some proper introductions." He looked to Spencer for this part. "My name is Charles Xavier, and these are my students. This is Scott, Jean, Logan, Bobby, and you already know Ororo, it would seem."

Most of those names, Spencer already knew, but it was nice to have a name for the blond haired one. Still, Spencer had a feeling that the introductions had mostly been done as a way to get him to introduce himself. He could see the way everyone was looking at him and he knew what it was that had to have caught their attention. They'd probably heard Remy back in his cell when he called Spencer a Fed. Well, time to see just how interesting this was going to get. "It's a pleasure to meet you, all of you. I've heard plenty about you over the years. My apologies for my own lack of manners before. I was more concerned with getting to Remy than with being polite. I'm SSA Dr. Spencer Reid." Rarely ever did he add the 'SSA' to his name when he introduced himself. But by doing it now, it neatly put that right out in the open.

The blond haired kid, Bobby, leaned forward on his chair to better look at Spencer. "So you really are a Fed?"

"Yes. I work as a profiler at the BAU."

That seemed to shock and/or amuse most of the room. Scott seemed to be the most amused of all. He was watching Remy with a small smirk curving his lips. "You're best friends with a Fed? _You_?"

"_Oui_." Remy said it without an ounce of shame. "Wasn't a fed when we first met, mind y'. _Mais_ he just graduated de academy…or, well…" He cocked his head towards Spencer. "Imagine it's been a few years since den f' y'."

"A few." Spencer said vaguely.

Charles raised a hand, silencing the group. "I think more explanations and questions can wait. Remy, if you'll lie down and get comfortable, we can see about trying to repair whatever damage Sinister has done."

That got Remy's attention, fast. His emotions sharpened even as his body seemed to relax even more. He let out a low, husky laugh. "Oh, y'r funny, M." He shook his head, still chuckling. "Gambit aint lettin' in his head. He's crazy, but he aint _dat_ crazy."

"It is the only way to try to view and repair whatever Sinister has done, Remy." Charles spoke calmly, not the least bit perturbed by Remy's words. He looked as if he'd expected them.

"Aint dat what y'all brought Spencer here f'?" Remy gestured lazily towards Spencer. "Once we're both comfortable and rested, he'll get t' lookin' at t'ings. Aint de first time he's straightened out dis boy's head." He turned enough to give Spencer a smile with much more warmth than he'd showed the others. Spencer found he could only shake his head and smile back. Despite the situation, despite the trouble it would take to put Remy's head together—and there were no guarantees, not with situations like this—he still felt a happiness inside of him. Because maybe this wasn't the Remy that the others knew, but it _was_ the Remy that Spencer knew, the one he'd been before his years with the X-Men had changed him. Before he'd joined here, before Rogue, before Antarctica, before the crap in both their lives had forced them to drift in ways they'd promised to never let happen .This was _his_ Remy. The one he had always loved and who had loved him back just as wholeheartedly. Spencer basked in it while he could. Soon enough he'd try and put his friend back together and this ferocity that he saw in him now would once more be smothered underneath so many different things. But until then, Spencer drew in Remy's presence, absorbing the emotions from him to hold in that quiet place in his heart that always missed the friendship they'd once had.


	5. Sweet

_Prompt: College AU, Spencer-is-a-Summers_

_Warnings for bad flirting, blushing shy boys, and fluffiness_

_NO MUTANTS. This is AU_

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><p>Some days Spencer hated brothers. It had been one thing to have them when he'd been living with his mother and only really getting to see them for visits here and there and over summer vacation. He'd loved having them then; had even wished to see them more!<p>

He'd had no idea what he was wishing for.

Brothers were a giant pain in the ass and _living_ with two of them, both of them older than him, was its own form of torture. He hadn't really had a choice before, though. When Spencer had started college at just shy of fourteen, he wasn't allowed to live on his own and Caltech didn't house minors in their dorms, so he'd had to move in with his two half-brothers who, luckily for him, lived not too far from his college. Spencer lived with them during the school year and went home to see his mother for holidays and for the occasional weekend that he could get away. When they'd first started this arrangement, he'd thought it would be great. Now that he was nineteen, he was seriously thinking of looking into getting his own place at some point before he committed fratricide. Not that any jury would be able to blame them. He'd just have them spend even just a few hours with Alex after that third cup of coffee. He'd get off on a self-defense plea for sure.

Spencer scowled furiously and looked through the windshield of the car towards the house where Alex was _still_ at. If the man didn't hurry up, they weren't going to have time to stop off for coffee, and if Spencer didn't get coffee before starting classes today, someone was going to pay for it. Most likely Alex. Preferably in as painful a way as possible.

Leaning over, he slammed the palm of his hand down on the car horn and let the blare fill the air for a long beat.

The door opened seconds after he let go of the horn. Spencer watched with a small sense of satisfaction as Alex glared while hurrying out towards the car. He waited until his brother was finally climbing in behind the wheel and met him glare for glare. "About time you got out here, Alexander."

"Untwist your panties, pidge." Alex shut his door and snapped his seatbelt into place. He looked at Spencer and then shook his head before pulling out his keys and slipping them into the ignition. "What's got you wound so tight?"

"I spent most of my night studying, I have a paper due by Friday that I have nowhere near finished, and once again you forgot to go shopping so our house is out of coffee." Spencer spat out, stress, exhaustion and lack of caffeine loosening up the usually quiet and kind man. "To add to that, I had to sit out here in the car and wait while you grabbed 'just one last thing' that somehow took almost fifteen minutes, though if you'd just give me the keys I could've easily driven myself to and from school today without any trouble whatsoever."

"But then I'd miss out on our wonderful morning conversations." Alex said in a mock-loving voice.

Spencer huffed and slumped down a little more in his seat. On a regular morning, he would've been happy to banter and chat with Alex. This really was one of his favorite times of day. He liked the time they shared together when they got their morning coffee and it was just the two of them. He also didn't typically mind that Alex drove him. If he was honest, he wasn't a big fan of driving. Back home in Vegas he'd been happy to take public transportation everywhere.

They'd been driving for about fifteen minutes when Spencer noticed something a little different about the route they were taking. He sat up in his seat and looked around with confusion. When they passed by a street he knew they should've turned down, he finally twisted in his seat to look at his brother and point back over his shoulder. "Where are you going? The coffee shop is that way!"

Alex shook his head and turned the car in the opposite direction. "I found this new place and thought we could give it a try. It's not out of the way or anything, an I hear they got great coffee."

For a moment Spencer eyed his brother suspiciously. Then realization hit and he had to roll his eyes. "You slept with that barista, didn't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." The sharp grin that flashed briefly across his face put lie to those innocent words. Seeing the incredulous look that Spencer was giving him, Alex gave in with an easy laugh. "Okay, yeah, yeah. But she came on to me, man! What was I supposed to do? Tell her no?"

"Yes." Spencer snapped. He closed his eyes and pinched at the bridge of his nose to try and combat the already building headache. "I warned you, Alex. She has a history of being a little…"

"Bat-shit insane?"

Spencer snorted. "Possessive." He corrected. Though Alex's description was pretty accurate judging by the things Spencer had heard.

Making another turn, Alex snuck a glance over at his little brother. "I still wanna know how _you_ of all people know something like that. You're not a gossip and you're usually blind to, well, people in general."

"I am not!"

"You totally are. You didn't even realize that Melinda was hitting on you and she'd put on a shirt so low I could see her nipples and she was practically shoving them in your face."

The memory of that had Spencer flushing hotly. The worst part was, he couldn't even deny it. He hadn't realized at all that Melinda had been trying to hit on him. Honestly, he'd mostly been trying to ignore her. It had taken Scott coming over and rescuing him to get him the hell out of that uncomfortable situation. Afterwards, Scott had been the one to explain to Spencer that she'd been trying to hit on him for quite a while, getting a little more brazen with each attempt. Remembering his embarrassment, Spencer slouched down a little lower in his seat. "Shut up."

A grin stretched Alex's lips. "My innocent little baby brother." He teased, reaching out and ruffling Spencer's hair. He only laughed at the scowl that Spencer gave him, and he easily dodged the smack sent his way.

Only a few minutes later they were pulling up outside of a bakery that looked just a bit crowded. Spencer quickly climbed out of the car, scowl still firmly fixed in place, and it only deepened when Alex came around the car and slung an arm around his shoulders, tugging him towards the door. "Come on, pidge. Let's go see if their coffee is as good as I hear. Maybe, if we're lucky, it'll be good enough to wipe that scowl off your face."

"Bite yourself." Spencer snapped. He'd trained himself out of saying 'bite me' years ago because Alex, childish idiot that he was, had no qualms whatsoever about actually biting the person who said that to him.

The smell of baked goods and coffee hit them the minute Alex opened up the bakery's front door. Spencer drew in a deep breath and gave a happy little moan. It smelled heavenly in here. Absolutely heavenly. Some of Spencer's temper faded away at the delicious scent and the promise of getting his caffeine fix. He fell into line with Alex and took the time while they were waiting to look around him. The place wasn't large, but it was well put together, giving off a comfortable and relaxed feel. This wasn't some yuppie place like a lot of stores here in the city were. The space was set up invitingly and the scents were tantalizing. Over by one wall, Spencer could see a few booths as well as a section with, of all things, wing-backed chairs and some coffee tables, and Spencer could see himself curling up back there with a good book while he drank some coffee. Through the sounds of low conversation around them, there was a hint of music in the air, just faint sounds that only helped to set the mood even more.

"This place seems really nice." Spencer murmured without any of his previous surliness.

Alex was looking around too and he gave an agreeable nod. "If their coffee lives up to reputation, we might have to officially switch places, pidge."

The only answer Spencer gave to that was a low hum. He didn't really pay any attention as the people in front of them finished placing their order. All he wanted was his coffee. The night had been a long one and his body was more than willing to make an attempt at falling asleep standing up. He came pretty close, too. It didn't even really register with him that it was their turn to order until Alex elbowed him sharply and he jerked his head up to glare at his brother. "What?"

Alex grinned broadly and gestured with one hand to the register in front of him. "It's your turn to order."

Oh. Spencer felt himself blushing even as he turned towards the register. He opened his mouth to place his order as he turned around and promptly lost the ability to say a single word when he saw the man standing behind the register. The very first thing he noticed was the most gorgeous pair of dark green eyes he'd ever seen, framed by loose strands of slightly long auburn hair. It was the eyes, though, that held him. Heavy lidded, with thick lashes, and a bright spark of humor, like he knew some joke that you just weren't in on. That humor was echoed in the smirk over lips Spencer absently thought he could spend hours nibbling on—and promptly blushed at that thought. That only made that smirk grow wider and that shouldn't be that damn attractive. But pretty much everything about the guy was. He was tall, just slightly taller than Spencer, with a lean yet muscled build that he couldn't hide even in the simple jeans and the AC/DC shirt he wore.

"See somet'ing y' like?" The man—a look at the nametag on his shirt labeled him as Remy—asked him in a voice thick with the sounds of the south. His question only made Spencer blush deeper, which in turn made Remy chuckle lowly. The humor in his eyes grew. "On de menu, of course." He teased.

Oh, Lord, was this guy _flirting with him_? Spencer dropped his gaze a little and fiddled with the hem of his shirt. He wasn't good at flirting on a regular day. Attempting to do it without any coffee in his system and running on little sleep? That was a recipe for disaster! He bit at his bottom lip and snuck a look up at the still smirking man. "W-White chocolate mocha, triple shot." He managed to say it with only a small stammer, so that was a plus.

Either oblivious to his brother's discomfort, or enjoying it—it was really hard to tell with Alex sometimes—his brother broke between the two with his usual tact. "Ooo, and two of those!" Alex interjected, leaning past Spencer to point to the muffins a young woman was just putting into the display case to the right. She looked up at his words and smiled, pointing with one hand at the muffins. When he nodded, she pulled two off and set them on napkins, placing them down on the counter by the register. Alex pounced on them with a grin that Spencer found, frankly, rather disturbing. Then his brother turned that grin on him and Spencer tried not to take a step back from it. That look was one that never meant anything good for him. Proof to point – "I'm gonna go find us a table, pidge." And with that, Alex spun and took off, leaving Spencer standing there with his mouth hanging open.

Husky laughter reminded him that the handsome man behind the counter was probably still back there waiting for his money. "Don't y' just love family?"

Spencer mouth snapped shut and his eyes narrowed in a glare that he wished could burn a hole in the back of his brother's head. "Love. Yes. That's the word I was searching for." Turning back to face the counter, he let out a soft sigh and drew out his wallet, his annoyed look melting away. "Apparently I'm paying today. How much do I owe you?"

He paid the amount that Remy told him and soon was moving down the counter to the pickup area. He felt a small thrill when Remy moved with him, those long fingered hands going to the machines to start their coffee. There'd been no one else waiting in line behind Spencer, which meant there was no one to steal the Cajun's attention away, and Spencer found himself wishing he was more adept at flirting. Or talking to people. He didn't often have that urge. Usually he was content to just avoid people all together. He didn't quite understand them and they almost never understood him. But something about this happy looking man had Spencer wanting to try.

He was saved from finding some attempt at starting a conversation. The guy did it for him. He looked over the machines as his hands started prepping their coffee's with practiced movements. "So, y' new to de area? I aint seen y' or y'r brother round here b'fore."

"Oh, no, we've lived around here for years." Spencer answered quickly. He moved to lean against the wall separating them, giving him a nice, out of the way view of the other man while he worked. "We used to go to a different shop, but we had to, ah, try a different place today. And Alex said he'd heard the coffee here was fantastic, so…" Spencer trailed off, giving an awkward little shrug of his shoulder.

"Well, de coffee's definitely fantastic, if I do say so m'self." Remy teased, winking at him, drawing a small chuckle from Spencer. He seemed pleased to have gotten that response. His smile warmed a little more. "So, why'd y' have to go somewhere new, if y' don't mind m' asking?"

It never occurred to Spencer not to answer that honestly. "My brother slept with the barista there. She's a bit…intense, and I don't think trusting her to make or serve our coffee is a smart plan anymore."

His candor seemed to startle the other man. Remy's eyebrows went up with surprise at Spencer's blunt words before his expression dissolved into one of wicked humor. His eyes flicked over to the table where Alex waited and then turned back to Spencer, the green bright and warm and full of something that Spencer definitely wasn't used to seeing directed his way. "Well, y' don't have to worry about dat here. He aint m' type." He tipped around the counter just enough that there was no way Spencer could miss the once-over Remy gave him. When his eyes reached Spencer's face again, there was lust mixed in there and it sent a chill down Spencer's spine. "I like m' men more on de slender side."

Later on Spencer would be embarrassed at how long it took him to catch on to what Remy had meant. When it finally did register, he blushed hotter than ever, and Remy gave another of those husky, delighted sounding laughs. "_Dieu_, y'r a sweet one." He teased. With a flourish of his hand, he finished making their coffee and slid a sleeve over each cup before bringing them over to the counter by Spencer. "Here y' go, cher. Two fantastic coffees."

"Thank you." Spencer said fervently. Maybe if he got some coffee in his system he could finally wake up and stop looking like such a bumbling, blushing idiot. _Not likely. That's kind of a natural state of mind_, he reminded himself.

Remy slid a straw into each up and then stepped back, once more giving Spencer that wide, cheeky grin that just bordered on a smirk. Those sparkling eyes of his fixed right on Spencer's face. "It's m' pleasure. I hope we'll see y' round here again sometime."

It was times like these that Spencer wished he had the courage to actually say what he wanted to. He wished he had Alex's confidence, or Scott's way with words. Neither one of them would've had a single problem in asking someone for their number. But all Spencer could manage was another blush, which made Remy chuckle again, and then he was taking the coffees and making his way over to the table where Alex sat. One look at his brother told him that he'd been watched while he was over there and the teasing light already in Alex's eyes gave him the heads up that he was going to hear about this for a long, long time. Thank God, Alex was nice enough that Spencer knew he wouldn't do it here where Remy might overhear them. He knew Spencer well enough to know that Spencer would simply get up and leave. Public embarrassment was a very touchy thing for him and his brothers both respected that.

As Spencer slid down into his seat and set the coffees down on the table, he noticed something about his coffee. He gave the cup a small turn until that spot on the sleeve was visible. When he saw what was there, his blush came back hotter than ever, but a small smile touched his lips.

_555-1475 –Remy_

_I like my boys shy, too_

His eyes shot up and immediately found Remy, who was back at the register once more ringing someone up. As if he felt Spencer's stare, Remy looked up. His eyes went from Spencer's face, down to his cup, and then flashed back up to Spencer's face once more. When he saw Spencer's smile, he smiled back at him and then tipped him a wink before turning his attention back to his customer.

Spencer turned forward once more, unable to wipe his own smile off his face. He lifted his cup up and took a sip, ignoring his brother's querying voice. Today was suddenly looking up.


	6. Chance Meetings

_Another Coffee Shop meeting, only this time set in the usual crossover world. Inspired after I wrote my short "Sweet"_

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><p><em>Just one more week. One more week and I can be done with this cane<em>. Spencer comforted himself with that thought as he stood in line at his favorite coffee shop. It felt like he'd been using this cane for forever. No sooner did that thought cross his mind than the logical half of him automatically corrected it, supplying the exact amount of time he'd been using the cane. He resisted shaking his head at himself. _Even in your own head you cannot manage to be illogical._

The line moved and he took another step forward. Just one person left between him and the register. There were mornings like this one where the coffee shop was full of people and it could take a little bit for him to get his order. However, he considered the coffee here well worth the wait. By far and above, this was the best coffee between here and work. He'd tested that theory out his first week at the BAU and once he'd discovered this place, he'd been coming here every morning ever since. The people at the counter knew him well and almost always had his coffee either waiting or almost done by the time he got to the counter to pay. The people here were friendly and he enjoyed the service almost as much as he did the coffee. Almost.

He resisted the urge to yawn when the line moved once more and he finally got to step up to the register. He'd only had a cup of coffee at home and he'd been up late the night before. The team had just returned from a case yesterday afternoon and the paperwork needed to close that case had taken a few extra hours out of the day as had the backlog of files they'd all had on their desks. And, okay, maybe he'd taken a few extra files from his friends when no one had been looking. But he always got through paperwork the fastest and if he hadn't taken those files, the others would've been there even later than he'd been. Out of them all, he was the one with the least waiting for him at home. It wasn't as big of a deal if he pulled in a few late hours at work. He didn't mind it, especially if it was helping those that he cared about. The people he cared for were few and far between and therefore all the more cherished.

Today was a Thursday, so it was Jenny who was behind the counter. The perky blond girl gave him one of her trademark toothy grins and a bubbly greeting. "Hey, Doc! Josh is just finishing up your order. You want to add anything on today?" The use of the nickname for him was so common now that he didn't even think on it. That had started almost two years ago when Jenny, fresh from high school, had been ringing up his order and Spencer had run into someone from work that referred to him as Dr. Reid. Somehow that had turned into her calling him Doc and the nickname had quickly traveled amongst the other workers, despite his flustered protests.

Spencer smiled at her and shook his head, already pulling his wallet out. "No, that'll be everything."

By the time he'd paid and had his wallet back in his pocket, Jenny had his drink. He thanked her as he took it from her. When he turned to start to move away, the next customer stepped up. As much as he loved his coffee and despite the fact that he wouldn't' go anywhere else, he really hated how crowded this place was right now. It made it just a little difficult for him to navigate with his cane, especially balancing a coffee in his free hand. He thought for sure he'd made it when he stepped around a group of chattering teenagers and suddenly ran right into someone.

Before Spencer could start to fully fall, he found himself caught up in a pair of strong arms that pulled him up and steadied him. He'd barely registered that fact when a warm voice with a thick Cajun accent said "Woah, dere." The arms holding him moved, hands going to his biceps to make sure he was steady. "_Je suis désolé_, _monsieur_. Are y' all right?"

Spencer looked up and found himself staring at the face of the most striking stranger he'd ever seen. Concerned red and black eyes were looking him over before settling on his face. For a second, Spencer found he couldn't quite speak. All he could do was look up at the handsome face in front of him. And the face was _very_ handsome. Lines at the eyes that showed someone who smiled a lot, high cheekbones, a sinful looking mouth that was starting to curve just the slightest bit. The man was a couple inches taller than him as well, making Spencer actually have to tilt his head. _Of all people to run in to, you at least ran into the most attractive one here_ his mind whispered.

Abruptly Spencer realized he was staring and heat filled his cheeks. He braced himself on his cane and took a step back, away from the hands that had held him, and he looked at them both. Somehow his coffee had managed to survive but the same couldn't be said for the man he'd run into. His cup was on the ground by them. "Oh!" The heat in Spencer's cheeks grew. "I am so sorry!"

The smile that had been starting now flashed full bloom. "Don't worry bout it. I'm just glad neither of us fell, too. Are y' okay?"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine." Spencer reassured him quickly. "I'm so sorry about your drink. Here, let me get you another one."

"It's fine, really…"

"No, please. It's the least I can do. I wasn't paying attention to where I was going and this is entirely my fault. Let me replace your drink, please."

The man's smile grew just a little bit and Spencer felt a little jolt, low down in his stomach. "_D'accord_. _Mais_ only if y'll sit and drink with me."

That had been the very last thing Spencer had expected him to say. Had this striking gentleman seriously just invited him to join him for morning coffee? Him, Spencer Reid? Maybe the man was asking simply because he felt bad for them running into one another. That had to be it. Spencer smiled nervously and shifted his weight a little. "I'm sorry, I'm actually about to go meet my ride and go to work." And he really was sorry that he had to say no. It wasn't every day he got invited to coffee by someone, let alone someone so good looking. And that voice! He'd always enjoyed Will's smooth accent. This man's voice held a thicker Cajun sound to it that sent a little shiver down Spencer's spine. Looking at the guy, Spencer got that little jolt in his stomach again and he suddenly found the courage to do something that he typically would never do. He took a risk and said, "But uh, you know, maybe we could get together another morning or something." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he prayed he hadn't read the guy wrong. It would be just his luck to find out that the man was just being polite—or that he was straight!—and this would all end up one embarrassing mix-up.

His moment of bravery was rewarded when the guy's smile warmed a little more. "I'd like dat." Shifting a little, he drew a backpack off his shoulder that Spencer hadn't noticed before. He reached in and drew out a notepad and a pencil. Quickly he scrawled something down before tearing off a piece of the paper and putting his items back in the bag. Then he held out the slip of paper toward the young genius. Spencer reached out with the hand that held his coffee, taking the paper between two fingers. On it he saw a phone number. Above the number was scrawled the name _Remy_. Looking up, he saw the man—Remy, presumably—flash him another of those heart-stopping smiles. "Give me a call when y'r free."

Spencer swore the blush in his cheeks grew a little brighter. "I will." Just then Spencer's phone started to ring. He looked down at his bag where his phone was. When it stopped after a few seconds, he knew who it was. That would be Derek calling to let him know he was outside. Ever since Spencer had come back to work on his crutches, Derek met him here at the coffee shop and drove him to work. He called and then hung up to let Spencer know he was there so that Spencer wouldn't have to juggle his cane and coffee while trying to answer the phone. It was something they'd set up when Spencer switched from crutches to cane. "That's uh, that's my ride, letting me know he's here. I should probably, um, go."

He'd started to move away when a husky laugh and a hand on his arm drew his attention back to Remy. "Do I get to know y'r name before y' race off on me?"

Oh! His blush deepened even more until he swore it felt like his face was burning. "Spencer. Spencer Reid."

Remy let go of his arm and grinned. "It was a pleasure running into y', Spencer Reid. I hope to hear from y' soon."

Spencer managed to stammer out "It was nice to meet you too" before he turned and hurried out of the coffee shop. He looked back when he got to the door and he saw Remy squatting down at the spilled coffee beside one of the employees, the two of them using rags to wipe up the mess. None of the other customers were even paying attention. None had paid any attention to the whole exchange. Someone cleared their throat and Spencer startled, realizing he was holding up traffic. He hurried out the door, clearing the way. He was still blushing slightly when he made it to Derek's car. The man was leaning against the passenger's door just like he had been every morning, arms crossed over his chest and a smile on his face as he waited for his best friend. He took in Spencer's red cheeks and flustered expression in one look and he pushed off the car, his expression turning teasing. "Something wrong there, kid?" he asked teasingly.

"I'm fine." The response was automatic and required no thought. He was barely thinking, really. If he had been, he would've realized he still held the paper with Remy's number _before_ Derek reached out to take his coffee. However, he didn't even think of it until Derek took both paper and cup and said "Now what do we have here?"

He'd let Derek take the cup because that's what his friend usually did, freeing up Spencer's hands so he could get into the car easier. Now, hearing that amused question, Spencer wished he'd just held on to his cup. His cheeks heated once more. Though it would only stall the man for a moment, Spencer avoided answering him and instead slipped into his seat. He could hear Derek's laughter while he shut the door. That only gave him a short break and then Derek was in the driver's seat, handing Spencer both his coffee and the piece of paper, and he was teasing once more. "Look at you, pretty boy! Picking up numbers in a coffee shop."

"It's nothing, Morgan." Embarrassed and yet pleased all at the same time, Spencer glanced once more at the paper before slipping it into his bag. He didn't need to keep it; already he had the number memorized. But still, it was nice to keep it. It wasn't every day someone handed out their number to him.

Derek laughed and turned his car on. "Oh, I think it's more than nothing. Even your ears are red, kid. Now, come on, spill the beans. Tell me about this person. Did I see the name was Remy?"

He knew Derek wasn't going to let this go. If Spencer didn't answer his questions now, Derek would just bug him about it all day long until he finally did get the answers. And, honestly, Spencer didn't really mind answering the questions so much. At least, not with his best friend. If there was anyone in his life that he could talk to about anything then it would be Derek Morgan. He was one of the only people in Spencer's life who had taken the time to look past the exterior, past the shields that Spencer put up between him and the world, and find out who the person was that lived inside. Not only had he looked, but he miraculously liked the person he found. From there the two had forged a friendship that was more familial than anything else.

Spencer took a drink of his coffee to give himself a second to gather his thoughts together. Then he looked down at his hands and smiled just a little to himself. Derek let him have the quiet, knowing Spencer well enough to know when the man was getting the words together that he wanted to say. Patiently he drove in silence, waiting. It didn't take long. Spencer looked up at him and flashed that hesitant smile of his. "You're probably going to laugh at me for this, but I'll say it anyways. It was rather crowded in there and I wasn't paying complete attention and I ran right into someone. He caught me, but I spilled his coffee."

He was right. Derek let out one of his deep laughs. "Leave it to you, Reid. Oh, man. All right. Keep going. How'd that end up with you getting his number?"

Spencer relaxed just a little in his seat and he relayed the conversation to his friend. It felt a little strange; he wasn't really the type to _gossip_. But he couldn't deny that it felt kind of…nice. That nice feeling didn't get to last, though. He'd just finished telling his story when both their phones went off. That meant only one thing; they had a case. Derek sped up the slightest bit while Spencer answered his phone, both their minds already switching over to work mode. By the time the call was done, all thoughts of attractive men in coffee shops were pushed away. It was time to get to work.


	7. Sparring

"Sparring turned to fun" Kind of inspired by my Trio series, mostly just a silly bit of not much, lol

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><p>The audience up in the control room had Spencer shifting nervously. He wasn't fond of fighting like this with people watching. He didn't often fight anymore and he'd never full on fought with Logan before. With Remy, yes, but not with Logan. Partially because he knew he'd easily get his ass kicked and partially because it went against the grain to fight with the man. Something in him responded to the feral in Logan and he knew that a fight between them could easily turn into much, much more.<p>

Logan's grin was wide and it was easy to see he was pleased. He stood in the middle of the Danger Room simulation of a gym, watching Spencer. "Ya ready for this?"

"You sound far, far too eager." Spencer grumbled at him. He took a deep breath and tried to center himself. "Powers or no powers?"

"Use what ya got, kid. I can keep ya out. Let's do this."

CXCX

Up in the control room, Remy grinned as he watched Spencer's posture shift. He loved watching either of his men fight. Their styles were so very different and he appreciated each one. Logan was quick and nasty when he wanted, but he could also be blunt and hard in his blows. He was an unstoppable cement wall that would eventually flatten anything in its path. Spencer went the other direction entirely. He knew he wasn't the most graceful or the most talented, so he chose to emphasize the traits he was good in. Speed being one of them. He was an economy of motion, only moving when he had to and never leaping when a simple step would do.

"He's good." Scott murmured, after watching the two men for about fifteen minutes. "A little rough, a little unsure, but he has a solid base to start with. A little training and he could definitely make a good fighter."

Remy smiled proudly. "He's still holding back some. Spencer, he aint a fighter. He don't like it. He'd rather talk his way out dan fight his way out." He heard Logan call out something and he couldn't help but chuckle. That was the man's first mistake. "_Mais_, Logan's in fo' it now. He shouldn't never have suggested testing him with weapons. Dis is gonna be fun." Settling in, he watched Spencer go to the weapons rack. He knew what the young genius would take. Spencer sifted through a few daggers before choosing two that he wanted. Held backwards in his hands, the points rested by his elbows. Now they would really see what his boy was made of.

Logan's claws came out and Spencer held his arms at the ready and then the two were circling one another. Logan was the one to make the first move, naturally. He feinted and lunged and Spencer easily slipped around his hand, coming up with one arm as he went around him and scoring a small mark over Logan's bicep. The feral man laughed loud and clear. "Quit holding back, brat!" he called out to Spencer. "Ya aint gonna break me. I'll heal right up."

"If you insist." Spencer responded easily.

Remy could actually see Spencer take a deep breath before letting it out, releasing all the tension. His whole body changed, loosening up in a way he rarely did. A low hum slid up Remy's throat. "Dere we go." He murmured appreciatively. "Now he aint holding back. Now y'll see what he's got hidden in dere. Kick his ass, cher."

A startled laugh slipped from Scott when Spencer scored four cuts in the next few minutes. For one, the young man had actually dropped down and cut the back of Logan's calf. For this mock fight, it was an easy wound for Logan to heal. In a real fight, Spencer could've easily hamstrung him, and Logan and those watching knew that. "He's not as unsure now." Scott commented.

"He's in de zone. Ah, cher, tuck dat elbow in." He threw the last part out, even knowing Spencer couldn't hear him, and then went back to answering Scott. "He doesn't like hitting, really. He says he knows he aint got de strength in him fo' de blows necessary. _Mais_ he learned blades a long, long time ago. Aint many dat know de _homme_ know dat he's got a t'ing fo' knives and swords of all sizes."

"Suddenly I'm understanding what attracts you all to one another." Scott said dryly.

Remy laughed and winked. Then he turned his attention fully to his lovers. The fight that came next was a beautiful sight for Remy to watch. He forgot about the others around him. All of his attention focused on the two that were twisting and turning and moving around one another. Spencer got in quite a few cuts while he sported only one on his bicep from Logan's claws. Then came the moment that Remy had known was possible. Spencer moved just a little too slow and Logan's claws scored across his forearm, two of them opening up lines of red on that smooth skin, and suddenly the atmosphere in the room below changed. Remy felt Spencer's emotions jerk from the calm of a fight to something a little more…primal. He saw the look on Logan's face when the Wolverine caught the scent of his prey's blood. In that moment, Remy knew there was only one way this fight was going to end. He knew how it would go before it even happened.

Still, he couldn't stop from watching as Spencer threw himself into the fight, yet at the same time the young genius wasn't putting his all into it. There were a few moves that Remy knew Spencer could've avoided. He just didn't want to. It was no surprise at all when Logan suddenly managed to knock Spencer's legs out from under him and he was on him, pinning his body to the ground with his hands held in a tight grip above his head. Spencer didn't struggle against the grip that held him down. He tipped his head up and exposed the long column of his throat, not moving an inch when Logan pressed his sharp teeth there.

Remy reached forward and hit the controls to end the simulation, returning the Danger Room to its normal state. He knew that if he didn't give them an out, things would happen right here in the open where anyone could see. Logan wouldn't care but Spencer would.

With the room clear and the door visible, Logan didn't hesitate to yank Spencer up to his feet, never letting go of his wrists. He dragged the man out of the room and Spencer easily followed behind them. Remy watched them go, letting himself bask in their emotions for a moment.

"Why do I get the feeling that Spencer threw that match?" Scott murmured lowly.

Humor quirked Remy's lips. "Cause y' aint stupid, _homme_. Spencer could've ended dat a while ago, _mais…_" Trailing off, he gave a shrug. Then he looked at Scott and grinned. "Y' wanna spar, Scotty? Remy's t'inking he should give de boys a little alone time, _non_?"

"You aren't going to join?" Scott arched a brow at him and his grin was sharp and teasing.

Laughing, Remy shook his head, not in the least bit embarrassed about the audience for their conversation. "_Non_, _mon ami_. We aint insecure enough dat we gotta be together every time. De Wolverine, he needs to mark his territory, _oui_? It'll be Remy's turn later, make no doubt about dat. He'll hunt me out and lay his claim on his Cajun. Spencer will, too. Fo' now, dey need one another, and Remy, he needs a distraction."


	8. Club Stardust

_Prompt/Request "Do something outside the gender norm, J. Something that not many people do" Well, ma chere, here it is :) Hope everyone likes it! This was a gift to a good friend_

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><p>Walking through the doors of the club Stardust was kind of like walking into a different world. Spencer Reid stepped through those doors and he left behind the image that he played each and every day and was finally able to let himself go and just <em>be<em>. Tonight was the first night in the past six weeks that not only did the team have free time, but they weren't too exhausted from a previous case to enjoy it. They had a four day weekend that was all theirs. The minute they'd found out about it, Emily had pulled Spencer aside and insisted that this meant a night out on the town—after a night for resting, of course. They all needed that full night of sleep to feel human again. But the second night she'd declared 'fun night' and had firmly told Spencer that he wasn't going to skip out this time. She, Spencer, and Emily's girlfriend Maya were going to dress up and hit up their favorite bar/club.

No one would've ever placed either one of them at Stardust. Not only because Spencer didn't come off as the type to go 'clubbing', but because Stardust was a mixed club. People of all sexuality were welcome, as well as those of all gender, and anything in between. They didn't turn anyone away and they didn't allow discrimination of any kind inside their doors. Not against looks, gender, sexuality, mutants—nothing. It was the last place anyone else on the BAU team would've gone and the last place they'd expect to see either Emily or Spencer. Then again, as far as anyone knew, Spencer and Emily were both straight and wouldn't have any reason to go there. They had no idea that Emily was bisexual, or that Spencer was gay and what he considered 'gender fluid'.

It'd taken a lot of years for Spencer to finally put a term to how he felt about himself. Being gay hadn't been all that difficult. He'd known that from the first male crush he'd had in college. It was the gender fluid that had taken him time to figure out and he'd only managed that thanks to one of his psychology classes that had discussed gender and sexuality. Gender fluid is a gender identity best described as a dynamic mix of male and female. Some people who are gender fluid may always feel like a mix of the two genders, some days more one than the other, while others feel that they have very defined moments of feeling either male or female. Like any other term or label, it meant something a little different to each person because no two people are exactly the same. For Spencer, he didn't feel specifically male or female inside, but more a mix of the two. Some days, yes, he felt a little more one than the other, but more often than not he just felt like a mix of both, with both masculine and feminine mannerisms, feelings, tastes. If asked to identify his gender, how he _felt_ not what he was labeled as, his answer probably would've been both.

However, raised in the life he had been, and with the views that society had, he'd learned to be accepting of the label put on him. His body was male, people saw him as male, and those were the pronouns he used. It didn't bother him when someone used 'he' when talking about him. There were some who were bothered by it, he knew. A good friend of his that he'd met at the LGBT center downtown, the one who'd actually introduced him to the club he was going to tonight, was gender fluid as well only his shifts were a bit more drastic when they happened and he had a preference to switch pronouns. It was easy to tell which to use. When Vick felt more like Vicki, the makeup came out, and that was a dead giveaway to which pronouns to use. Others still, Spencer knew, used the gender neutral pronouns such as ze and zir.

Spencer was content using 'he'. It didn't really matter in the end to him.

What he tended to hide, what Emily had discovered that night at the club, was how his fluidity affected his physical appearance. There was a reason that Spencer kept his hair the length he did. It allowed him quite a few different forms of expression. When he shopped for clothes, he always went for comfortable, but he'd never bothered to worry about which department he shopped in, be it men's or women's. At least, not if he could get away with it. He'd learned to do that kind of shopping where he wouldn't risk running into someone he knew.

The night that Spencer had run into Emily, he'd had his hair clipped back over one ear with bright star clips that Vicki had put in for him, and he'd been dressed in a pair of comfortable slacks, low heeled boots, and a silky purple tank top, with dark purple earrings in. Vicki had bought him the outfit and he'd loved it, loved how he felt in it. Between that and the light makeup that he'd been wearing, there hadn't been any way to keep his secret a secret from Emily anymore.

She'd risen above and beyond for him. Not only had she understood, she'd been extremely supportive and Spencer had found himself one hell of a friend. Someone who didn't think him strange, didn't try to push him one direction or the other. Who didn't just assume that he liked feminine things because he was gay, as if gender and sexuality were so automatically connected. Someone who had taken the time to sit down with him and ask all the important questions, like what he felt, what made him uncomfortable, was there any term he preferred or anything that she shouldn't say, and did he want her to switch pronouns when she spoke with him outside of work? Spencer had been completely and utterly stunned. He'd been even more stunned a week later when she'd dragged him home with her after work and insisted they were going out together, and she hadn't even questioned when he'd gone for a more masculine look that night. Emily accepted every bit of him without prejudice and Spencer absolutely adored her for it. She was like the supportive big sister he'd never had. Not only did she support his lifestyle, she encouraged it, supporting him to open up in ways that he was usually a little afraid to.

She was at his side tonight, Maya already beside her. The three of them created quite an image according to Emily.

Maya was most definitely a very feminine girl. Petite, with a slender waist and a gorgeous figure, she rarely ever wore pants, opting instead for skirts and dresses. Tonight she was in a little black number that Spencer knew she wore just because Emily loved it. Her auburn hair was piled messily on her head with curls spilling down here and there and her blue eyes were alight with the happiness of simply being out with the one she loved. She was one of the happiest people that Spencer knew. Quiet, like he could be, yet spunky, and she loved Emily with everything she had.

Beside her, Emily was looking pretty good herself. She'd gone for comfortable in the lower heels, the form fitting black slacks and the low cut white floral top, yet she looked even more beautiful for its simple elegance.

Spencer was comfortably dressed as well, in clothes he didn't get a chance to wear anywhere else. Emily had dressed him tonight, much to her enjoyment. She'd put him in a pair of simple blue jeans—they were a pair he'd admired in the store and that he wouldn't have bought if Emily hadn't given him the courage. They were women's jeans, which he found he could fit into thanks to a naturally slender waist. They were just plain dark blue jeans. But according to Emily, "They sit nice on your hips and they actually give you an ass, Reid. A lot better than those usual slacks you wear." To go with it, she'd put him in a blue silk V-neck and one of her fitted black blazers to go over it. She'd brushed his hair loose and free and put on a light coating of makeup, mostly around the eyes. Just a bit of eyeliner and some color to make them 'pop', she said. He'd been the one to add the earrings, just because, and he'd picked out the low heeled boots that came halfway up his calf.

All in all, he highly doubted anyone from work would recognize him at all and that was fine by him. Tonight wasn't about work.

As had become their norm, the trio didn't stay downstairs where the main dance floor was. They took the side staircase up to the second floor where the bar and the pool tables were at. Up here they could still hear the music, still enjoy the sound, but they could find a table and share a few drinks or they could challenge one another to a game of pool, and if they felt the urge to socialize more or dance, all they had to do was dip downstairs. This place catered to pretty much all tastes. It worked out for them, because Emily and Maya often enjoyed going to dance whereas Spencer more liked the upstairs atmosphere where he wasn't as crowded by people. With this setup they could alternate as needed and just enjoy themselves.

Downstairs was already pretty packed but the upstairs wasn't too bad. They easily found themselves a table towards the far side of the room, near a surprisingly open pool table. Emily left him and Maya to hold the table while she went to grab the drinks.

Maya folded her arms on the table and smiled brightly at him. "I'm so glad you guys were able to get out tonight. You've been running ragged lately."

"Things have been hectic lately." Spencer admitted. He twisted a little in his chair, years of habit having him keeping his back towards the wall. He smiled back at the sweet girl that had become a rather good friend to him over the past year that she and Emily had been dating. "What about you? Emily said the hospital's had you on rather long hours." Maya worked in the pediatric ward at the hospital and sometimes ended up with hours just as long as theirs.

They talked about work until Emily came back to the table with their drinks. She listened for one second as she set the drinks down and then quickly cut in. "Hey, hey, none of this! This is not a night for work talk! I've had enough shop talk." Folding herself down into the chair at Maya's side, she slid one arm around her girlfriend's shoulders and pulled her in close against her side in a casual and comfortable move that made Spencer smile. She picked up her own drink and held it up. "Enough shop talk. Tonight's about us and about having fun!"

"Hear, hear!" Maya cheered, lifting her own glass. Spencer lifted his as well and couldn't help but laugh when the girls clinked their glasses against his.

It was always so easy for Spencer to relax when out like this. He'd never really been able to find the words to explain it to anyone else properly how he could go from the shy and nervous kid that most saw every day to this more relaxed, easy going person that he became when he let go like this. There was just something about not having to hide, about being able to openly be himself with people who knew him and who accepted him, that just made him so much more relaxed. He was still mostly shy, still stumbled occasionally and moved with that awkwardness that came from being so caught up in his own thoughts that he sort of forgot the physical world around him. The difference was really that he was more comfortable in his own skin this way. And while that may not have given him the ease or grace that others had naturally, it did give him a more relaxed and approachable air.

A group of guys came to the open pool table near them and Spencer shifted himself just enough that his long legs weren't sticking out anymore. He drew one up enough that the heel of his boot rested on the bottom rung of the seat, and he crossed the other, keeping that foot tucked close enough to the table not to be in the way. As he sat back in his chair, Spencer ran his eyes over the people, not even noticing that Emily did the same. It was habit for them from too many years at the Bureau. These guys were close to them, close enough to cause trouble, and training had them assessing the potential threat and looking for anything that might hint that there could be trouble. While this club was one of the most tolerant around, and well known for that, there were some people that could lose their tolerance when they got enough alcohol in them. Those were the ones you had to watch out for.

These two guys most definitely looked like they could be a threat, if they wanted, but nothing in their body language suggested that they were going to cause trouble. Emily dismissed them with one small, appreciative look, one that didn't go unnoticed by her partner. The arm slap that Maya gave her had Emily laughingly protesting and Spencer smothering a smirk in his drink. "What?" Emily tried for innocent and failed miserably at it.

"You know what, Emily Prentiss." Maya mock scolded her.

Spencer ignored them briefly while the two had their playful, fake argument. Whereas Emily had dismissed the two, his own eyes couldn't help lingering. Both men were decidedly attractive. One was shorter and on the stocky side, the build of a brawler. Someone you definitely wouldn't want to mess with. His hair was dark and messy and he had thick sideburns that not many could pull off. A good looing, strong sort of guy. Attractive, yes, but not typically Spencer's type. Now the guy with him…Spencer had to remind himself not to stare. This guy had the kind of looks that just begged to be looked at. Darker auburn hair pulled back into a ponytail, with just a bit hanging down over a devilishly handsome face that was partially hidden by sunglasses. Full lips were curved up in more smirk than smile, like he was causing trouble of some sort or at least plotting it. He was tall, probably taller than Spencer—a huge plus. He had a thing for taller guys. And that body, what Spencer could see of it, was enough to have him humming lightly into his drink. Not stacked with muscles like his friend, he still had the obvious look of a fighter, strength and fluidity in every long, delicious line of him. Spencer had seen forms like that on martial artists before and he wondered if that was something this guy did. Now if only he'd remove that coat; then Spencer could have a much better look. Not that the coat didn't work for him in all the best ways.

A none-too-gentle kick under the table had Spencer jolting and his eyes snapping back over to his friends. He found Maya and Emily both grinning knowingly at him. Immediately he felt his cheeks heat. "Don't even start with me." He warned them both.

Emily lifted a hand and laid it innocently over her heart. "Me? Spencer, I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about!"

"Mm hm." He said dryly. "Try it with someone who doesn't know you better, Prentiss."

Reaching out, Maya patted Spencer's arm. "Ignore her, Spencer. There's no harm in checking someone out."

"Especially when they're checking you out, too." Emily added in a low murmur.

Spencer's eyes shot over before he could stop himself. Sure enough, the gorgeous man was looking his direction, leaning casually against the pool table while his friend racked the balls. When he saw Spencer looking his way, his lips curved up a little more and he tipped his head in a silent sort of greeting that had Spencer flushing all the more. If anything, that just made the guy's smirk grow.

"Look at you!" Emily teased, her voice pitched low enough that only their table could hear. "Way to go, Reid! We've barely even been here a half an hour yet and you've already got someone on the line."

"Oh, be quiet." He grumbled. He didn't come out on these nights to 'hook up' and Emily knew that very well. It never stopped her from teasing him, though.

"Leave him be, Em! You're embarrassing him." Maya scolded. "Be nice to him. Reid, why don't you tell me about that class you're taking over at GWU. Didn't you tell me before that you were thinking about taking an anthropology class?"

That right there was one of Maya's many skills and one that Spencer had always appreciated. She had this ability to remember pretty much everything people told her about themselves, even little things like their Aunt's name or when someone's birthday was, and she showed an honest interest in hearing about whatever a person told her. Emily said it was what made her so good at working with children. She was always interested in what they had to say, even if it was the same story they'd told her twelve times already, and she could always manage to set them at ease with just a short conversation. For Spencer, who tended to get nervous in large social gatherings, appreciated this ability of hers more than most might. Even though he knew she was doing it deliberately, it didn't negate the effects. He knew she was trying to set him at ease and he let her do it, opening up and answering all the questions she asked about his anthropology course as well as some things she hadn't asked about. Not once did she cut him off or look like she was bored with it.

She drew Emily in too, until somehow Spencer found the three of them discussing in depth the psychiatric labeling in cross-cultural perspective. Apparently Emily had taken an anthropology course in college just for the joy of doing something that her mother didn't approve of and she'd found that she'd enjoyed it. That, of course, led to stories about college life, and Maya had them laughing as she told of the pranks that she and the other med students had often played on one another during classes just to help break up the tension that could build.

Little by little it had Spencer mostly forgetting the world around him and slowly relaxing again. He found himself smiling and laughing and having a better time than he'd had in weeks. If every now and again his eyes strayed to the gorgeous guy still playing pool nearby, well, that was all part of being out in a club like this, right?

During one of those quick looks—what person could resist taking a look when that gorgeous body was bent over the edge of the table like that?—he was distracted enough that he missed the look that passed between Emily and Maya. They drew his attention again when they both rose from the table. "We're gonna go dance for a bit." Emily told him, taking Maya's hand in hers and pulling her out. "We'll be right back."

It was a normal thing for them to do, so Spencer didn't think anything of it. Just waved them off before settling back into his seat. They'd barely gone when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He was already cursing in his mind before he even pulled it out. _Please, please, don't let there be a case. Hotch swore no cases unless an absolute emergency_. He didn't want to even think about what kind of emergency might be happening for them to be called in. But when he brought his phone out and thumbed open the messages it wasn't Penelope telling them to come in. It was Emily. _Talk 2 him! – Em_

That devious little witch. Spencer flushed a little and shook his head. _Quit trying to set me up!_ He typed back to her.

It was only a second later that her reply came in. _Psh. Don't ruin my fun! – Em_ followed almost immediately by another that said _If anything happens, remember, pictures!_

Spencer dropped his head down a little and laughed at that one. He thumbed out a quick _You wish!_ in reply.

Caught up in his message, he hadn't noticed anyone getting close to his table and he almost jumped out of his skin when he heard a husky, whiskey-warmed voice say "Y' should do dat more often."

His gaze shot up from his phone only to find that the gorgeous guy he'd been admiring off and on for the past half hour was standing near his table, leaning back against the pool table and smiling at him. Caught off guard and more than a little flustered, the best that Spencer managed to get out was "I beg your pardon?" because seriously, what was this guy talking about? Do what more often?

The guy's smile grew a little and, dammit, it was not fair for one person to be that attractive. Especially not when all they were doing was smiling, _smirking, _and leaning there against a pool table. That shouldn't be such a hot look. But it was. The guy rested his pool cue casually over his shoulder and tipped his head just a little, a small bit of hair dropping down over his face. "Laugh." He answered. "Y' got a gorgeous laugh. Y' should do it more often."

There was no stopping the blush that hit his cheeks. Spencer dipped his head a little to try and hide it behind his hair, sneaking a glance up through his bangs. "Thank you."

"What're y' doing over here all alone?" The guy asked him. "Did y'r friends leave y', cher?"

Spencer shook his head. "Oh, no, they just went to dance."

"And y' didn't go wit' dem?"

He bit the inside of his lip and shrugged one shoulder negligently. "I'm not much of a dancer."

"Dat's a shame." The way he said it made it seem like he didn't mean it at all. "Maybe I could buy y' another drink an keep y' company until dey come back."

Oh, sweet Heavens. It was a line, no doubt about that, but Spencer didn't care. He didn't care how clichéd any of it was. Honest pleasure warmed his face as he nodded. "I'd like that."

The guy pushed off of the table and stepped towards him, holding out one long fingered hand. "M' names Remy. Remy LeBeau."

Spencer took his hand, something that was rare for him. Shaking hands wasn't usually his thing. Very rarely did Spencer reach out to touch strangers. But he shook Remy's hand and enjoyed the warm feel of it, trying very hard not to imagine what that hand would feel like on the rest of him. "Spencer Reid."

He drew Spencer's hand up to his lips and pressed a kiss against his knuckles. "It's a pleasure to meet y', M. Reid."

Flustered, and more pleased by the gesture than he cared to admit to, his brain apparently short circuited because he found himself stupidly blurting out "You lay it on rather thick, don't you?" As soon as the words were out he wanted to curse himself for coming off sounding like an asshole. Yeah, that's really smart. Always nice to be sarcastic and rude when someone's being kind and flirting. That's a great way to impress them. _Real smooth, Reid_, he scolded himself.

To his utter surprise, Remy wasn't offended. He laughed and gave Spencer's hand a squeeze before he let go of it. "Been accused of dat a time or two." He admitted, leaning in a little bit closer and flashing a glimpse of red and black over the top of his sunglasses, giving him a quick wink. "Besides, somet'ing tells me y' don't mind all dat much, _non_?"

He laughed at Spencer's blush. Not mockingly, just warmly, husky in a way that sent shivers down Spencer's spine. Reaching out, he snagged Spencer's empty glass off the table. "Let me go get dem drinks, cher. I'll be right back."

Spencer took a moment to admire that lithe form as it moved through the crowd. Chewing on his bottom lip, he debated for a second and then quickly typed off a message on his phone. Once it was done, he slid it back into his pocket and settled himself into his chair, both shy and eager about whatever was going to happen next. Something told him it was going to be fun.

_You two are on your own. See you tomorrow. - SR_

_And I'm not sending pictures! - SR_


	9. First Date

_So many people liked the gender-fluid Spencer, so I thought I'd add another clip. I may take these and put them on their own document at some point and just do random clips/drabbles of gender-fluid Spencer. I'm not sure. For now, enjoy this clip from their first real date! And to answer all your reviews that ask me if I intend on writing out any of these - Yes. One day, when my other stuff is done, I plan on writing out each one of these. So as soon as I finish some things, I'll be picking from here for my next story. :)_

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><p>He was late, he was late, he was <em>late<em>. Spencer chanted curse in Latin as he tore through the front door of his apartment building and made a mad dash for the stairs. Of all the days to be bogged down with paperwork and actually end up _late_ why did it have to be today? If it hadn't been for Emily seeing that Spencer had once more magically managed to have more paperwork than everyone else—really, did they all think he didn't realize that extra files got slipped into his pile?—and coming over and stealing some, he would've been running even later. Bless her even more, she'd made sure he got out the door at a semi decent time and she'd even stalled Derek for him so that the man wouldn't be able to catch up to Spencer and realize just how rushed he was, which would've led to questions that Spencer didn't want to answer. He cared about Derek, really he did, but with as nervous as Spencer already was, the last thing he wanted to do was put up with teasing from his friend about his date tonight.

Spencer took the first staircase two at a time in his effort to hurry. He'd been looking forward to this for days; ever since that night at the club. He and Remy had sat and talked for _hours_, drinking and laughing and even getting up to play a game of pool. Eventually, something had called Remy away, much to Spencer's disappointment, but the Cajun hadn't been shy at all about asking Spencer out on a real date. They set plans for Monday night, exchanged numbers, and Spencer had rode on cloud nine the whole way home.

Now here it was, Monday night, and Remy was due to show up any second, hence the reason for Spencer's furious Latin curses. He'd wanted to have enough time to shower and make himself look good. Dates were one of the times where he fell more towards the feminine side of the gender spectrum. He liked to take the time to make himself look good. Dates drew out that part of him that wanted to dress nicer, look nicer. The part that actually cared about what he looked like even though he didn't in his day to day life. Vicki liked to joke that that was the 'male' part of him, the one that just threw on appropriate work clothes without caring about how awkward or out of place it made him look for dressing like a professor instead of an FBI agent. Spencer would always roll his eyes and remind her that he didn't really differentiate those parts of himself. He was who he was.

When Spencer reached the top of the final staircase, he almost slid as he went round the corner, just managing to catch himself on the railing before he ended up falling flat on his ass. And didn't it just fit the way the night had gone when he realized that Remy was standing there in front of his door and had just witnessed his less than graceful dash and slip. _At least I didn't fall._

Those sinful lips curved up into the smirk that had heated Spencer's blood more than once that night. "Well hey dere, Spencer. I guess dat explains why y' wasn't answering y'r door."

Spencer straightened back up and reached down into his pocket for his keys, trying to hide the bright blush of embarrassment. "I am so sorry. There was a ton of paperwork and everyone just sort of dumped theirs off on me and of course, I couldn't just ignore it or give them back…" Any further rambling was cut off when Remy stepped forward and caught Spencer's chin between finger and thumb. He tilted Spencer's face up, hand sliding to cup his cheek, and then Spencer forgot everything around him when Remy bowed down and pressed their lips together in a kiss that was slow and sweet and that completely stalled Spencer's brain. When Remy pulled back, Spencer could only stand there, lips parted on a soft breath, looking stupidly up at him. Remy smirked and stroked lightly over Spencer's cheek. "T'ought dat might be de quickest way to end dat rant." He teased Spencer, and his tone clearly made it a tease. "Besides, dat gets dat nerve-wracking first kiss outta de way, _non_? No waiting fo' de end of de night."

"I like the way you think." Spencer murmured. He rubbed his cheek ever so slightly against Remy's hand, enjoying the smoothness of his palm compared to the calloused fingertips.

Remy swept his thumb over Spencer's cheekbone and hummed in the back of his throat. "Y' know, technically, we spent enough time together at de club dat dis could count as our second date."

"Oh?" A hint of a smile touched Spencer's lips.

"Mm hm. Which, if I remember right, means I can do dis again."

The kiss this time was a little longer and Spencer was breathing just a bit heavier by the time it was done. Remy smiled down at him and gave him one last, quick peck before he stepped back, dropping his hand. It took Spencer a second to remember how to move again. When he caught Remy smirking at him, his cheeks flushed and he scrambled forward to finally unlock his door. Once he got it open, he gestured over his shoulder for Remy to follow him. "Come on it and make yourself comfortable. It shouldn't take me but a moment to change out of my work clothes and put my gun away."

"Y'r inviting me in?"

Spencer looked back over his shoulder and gave him an incredulous look. What kind of question was that? "Well I'm not going to make you wait in the hallway."

For a moment Remy just looked at him. Then, with a shake of his head, he followed Spencer inside. "Has anyone ever told y' dat y'r far too trusting fo' an FBI agent?"

"I may not look it, but I am capable of defending myself, Remy."

"Not everyt'ing's gonna be scared of dat gun of y'rs, cher."

There were multiple ways that Spencer could answer that. He could give a standard answer, he could ignore it, or he could show Remy the same trust that Remy had showed him when he'd let Spencer see behind his sunglasses and he could answer it honestly. It only took him a second to decide. Turning around, Spencer looked at Remy and very carefully _pushed_, using his mind to press back until Remy was firmly held against the wall from head to toe by a force the Cajun couldn't see. "I can defend myself." Spencer repeated calmly. Then he carefully let go once more.

The smile Remy wore as he straightened back up was both amused and mischievous. "Telekinetic. Nice."

Another blush warmed Spencer's cheeks. Damn this man for doing that to him so easily! It wasn't fair. Tucking a bit of hair behind his ear, Spencer gestured down the hall. "I'll be, um, right back. Just go ahead and make yourself comfortable. I shouldn't be but a minute."

"Take y'r time, cher. We got time b'fore our reservations." Remy reassured him as he strolled over to look at one of Spencer's bookshelves. "Go ahead, take a minute, put y'r face on if y' want. I'll be plenty entertained here wit' y'r books."

One word out of all of that rang in Spencer's mind as he hurried back to his bedroom to get ready to go. _Reservations_. Wherever Remy was taking him, it was somewhere that required reservations, and that limited extremely just how Spencer was going to look. The last thing he wanted to do tonight was end up embarrassing Remy in any way. Dressing the way he had the other night at the club, that was definitely out. Running into a guy in a woman's shirt and makeup at a mixed club like Stardust was one thing. Taking that person out to somewhere that had _reservations_? Yeah, that was something totally different. He needed to be careful about what he chose. Spencer tried to ignore the small pang that gave him as he hurried to put his gun away and get out of his work clothes. Just once, it'd be really nice if he could go out somewhere and not have to worry.

In the end, conscious of the fact that he was keeping his date waiting, Spencer finally settled on a pair of black jeans—and if they were women's jeans, well, who else but him would know, huh?—and a soft, dark purple dress shirt. He'd chosen nice because Remy had been dressed nice. Spencer had noticed that earlier, despite the embarrassment he'd been in. Remy was wearing dark jeans as well and what had looked to be a black shirt and dark red vest underneath his trench coat. That was the gauge that Spencer used for himself and why he picked the dress shirt that he did. The dark purple was a good look for him and it was soft and silky and, according to Emily, gave him a classy look. He really would've liked to top it off with a bit of eyeshadow, maybe some eyeliner, but he resisted. Just like he resisted the earrings that he knew would go with it all perfectly. He did, however, indulge a little bit, pulling on the heeled boots that he so loved, the very same ones he'd worn that night at the club that had put him just a few inches shorter than Remy. That thought made him wonder what their height difference would be like without the heels. He hadn't been paying attention during their kiss to really notice. How could he be expected to have paid attention to anything but that kiss?

When he finally hurried back out to the living room, he found Remy sitting in one of his chairs, a book in hand. It surprised him to see that it was Tristan and Isolde. He was in the middle of the book, too, and looked to be enjoying it, like he'd read the book before and had skimmed to his favorite part while waiting for Spencer. There weren't many people around Spencer's age that would not only be able to read that book, but read it in French like Remy was right now.

The sound of his heels drew Remy's head up. The immediate smile that curved his lips and the flare of appreciation in his eyes went a long way towards soothing Spencer's annoyance at his own appearance. "Well would y' look at y'." Remy murmured. He carefully closed the book and rose from the chair, putting the book back on the shelf in just the right spot. Then he turned back to Spencer and his smile warmed a little more. "Y'r looking gorgeous tonight, cher."

Color warmed Spencer's cheeks. "Thank you."

"Are y' ready, den?"

"Mm hm. Just need to grab my coat."

They stopped off at the closet by the door and Spencer pulled out a black pea coat. It charmed him completely when Remy took the jacket from him and held it out, helping him into it. The gesture was old fashioned and it had Spencer smiling. Once he'd buttoned himself in, Spencer led Remy over to the door, but something stuck at him. Something that he couldn't quite resist asking. Hand on the doorknob, he turned enough to tilt his head and look up at Remy. He found the Cajun just watching him with a curious look. "I don't understand you." Spencer murmured, not really thinking about his words.

"What do y' mean?"

"You haven't asked. You haven't even looked like you've thought of asking."

The curiosity on Remy's face turned to confusion. "About what, cher?"

About…about what? Was he serious? "About me. About the way I dressed that night and how I looked coming home today and how I look now. You haven't even looked confused by it."

"Oh." Pausing, Remy shrugged one shoulder. "Why would I?"

"Because everyone does. Even people that I've met at Stardust. Everyone, at some point or another, asks what I am. Or why I look so different one night to the next."

"I aint dat fond of labels, me." Remy told him. "I know em, I just aint fond of dem. I don't care what label y' slap on y'rself, or what label someone else slaps on y'. Y' are who y' are, Spencer, and I happen to enjoy who y' are. What's it matter to me what de term is? I don't care of y'r transgender, androgynous, gender fluid—it don't matter. Y' wanna know what matters to me?" He leaned in now, bending his head just enough that his sunglasses slid and Spencer could see his eyes. The red in them gave the illusion of glowing and Spencer found he couldn't look away even as Remy's warm voice wove intimately around them. "What matters is y', an it's y' dat I like. Y'r a smart and funny person. Y' got a smile dat lights up de whole room and dis blush dat drives me absolutely crazy. Y'r nice, sweet, and absolutely gorgeous, an I'm happy to be here. De only care I got about y'r gender identity is making sure I'm talking to y' right and not offending y' an I seem to be doing fine so far, _non_?"

The lump in Spencer's throat made it too hard to speak. He had to settle for nodding. How on earth had he managed to find someone so damn perfect? No one was _ever_ that relaxed about things. People always ended up having questions. Often enough, people felt they could guide him, too, helping him 'find himself' and make that 'choice' between male and female, or to choose neither. Remy was the first person Spencer had ever gone on a date with that seemed totally satisfied with him being both. Clearing his throat, because this was too important to just be silent about, he finally managed to speak. "You're fine. I've always used the masculine pronouns. I don't really identify in one direction or the other. I feel, both. It's just that the things I like vary towards one end of the spectrum or the other depending on where I am, what I'm doing, or other things like that. You…you really don't care?"

"Spencer, I wouldn't have cared if y'd stayed in y'r work clothes, or if y'd decided to put on a little black dress an heels. Which, by de way, is an absolutely delicious image, I hope y' know." He threw that out with a smirk and a wink that helped to break some of the tension. Reaching out, he caught Spencer's hand and folded it between both of his. "I like de outside package, cher, dere's no denying dat, _mais_ de important part is what's inside, and I'm liking dat a whole hell of a lot. Dat's de part I want to get to know tonight. _D'accord_?"

"Okay." Spencer said softly. His smile was back in place and he felt his cheeks warming with his blush, yet he didn't look away. For the first time that night he let himself finally let go of the last of his nerves and just relax.

Remy must've noticed it because he relaxed a little too. The tension drained out of him and he pulled Spencer's hand up, kissing his knuckles once more. "I'm really glad y' decided to come out wit' me tonight, Spencer."

"Me too, Remy. Me too."


	10. Courting

_Gender-fluid Spencer has just proved too much fun. Think it's time I moved them to their own story? Here's another little clip. "Courtship"_

* * *

><p>"Well what's going on here?" Derek Morgan asked as he walked alongside Spencer into the bullpen. The two of them were just returning from their lunch break. With no current case and just paperwork to deal with, they'd gone out to a nearby deli to grab their lunch, something the two friends liked to do on occasion. It was one of those random moments where they left behind the others on the team and just kind of hung out a little, the two of them. Derek jokingly called it the time where he got to check in on his adoptive baby brother and make sure all was well in his world. Usually, Spencer just rolled his eyes at that.<p>

It took only a second for Spencer to see what had caught Derek's attention. There was a small crowd of people standing around—Spencer's desk. What were they doing there? Curious, he quickened his steps a little.

As soon as they got close and the people saw them coming, the small crowd parted enough for Spencer to see what it was that had caught their attention. There on Spencer's desk sat an absolutely gorgeous bouquet of flowers. Mixed flowers, of all types and colors, in a wooden rectangular vase colored in dark mahogany that Spencer could already tell would fit in perfectly with the other bits of furniture and such in his living room. The person who'd picked this had obviously put some kind of thought into it. Not that there was any doubt in Spencer's mind who had done this. Only one person would be sending him flowers.

"Would you look at that." Derek said, startling Spencer and reminding him that his friend was by his side. "Someone's sent you flowers, Reid. Have you got yourself a special someone and you haven't even told me?"

Spencer blushed at that, but he didn't deny it. His lips were curving into a smile even through his embarrassment as he walked right up to his desk and looked down at the beautiful bouquet. _Flowers_. Remy had sent him flowers. That thought left Spencer ridiculously pleased. So much so that he didn't even get upset when he heard someone ask "Isn't the guy supposed to send the girl flowers, not the other way around?" All he did in response to that was blush even deeper.

Bless his friends; Emily stepped up towards him then, gesturing with her hands towards the others. "All right, everyone, back off. Show's over here."

"She's right." Derek backed her up, his presence just a little more intimidating to those that wanted to stick around. "Let the man appreciate his flowers in peace." While Derek would undoubtedly tease Spencer over this, there was no way he was going to let anyone else.

Everyone started to clear away then, leaving just Spencer, Derek and Emily. How it was that Penelope wasn't out here yet, Spencer didn't know. She'd make her way out soon enough. Of that he had no doubt. There was no way she'd be able to resist. For now, he didn't worry about it, focusing on the flowers and the small card that hung from them. Picking it up, he slid it from the envelope and quickly read the scrawling script there. _The weekend cannot come soon enough. Counting the hours until I see you again – Remy_. It was short, slightly cheesy, and yet it was the sweetest thing Spencer had ever gotten. This had been the very last thing he'd expected! He and Remy had been on three dates now—four, if you counted that first night at the club—and Spencer found himself falling just a little harder each time they got together. They'd gone out to eat, out to the theater, even out on an afternoon date through the Smithsonian, and through all of that, Remy had been surprisingly gentlemanly. When Spencer had shyly commented on the fact that Remy hadn't pressed for more than a few kisses, which most men would've definitely been pressing for more by now, Remy had smiled and kissed him until he could barely think before breaking away and telling him "I'm lookin' fo' more dan a quick roll in de hay, Spencer. Someone like y', it's worth taking y'r time and doing it proper. Y' deserve it."

How was he expected to resist something like that? So, Spencer was letting him do it 'proper'. He was being courted and it was the most amazing feeling.

When Remy had told him that he had to go back to New York for a bit, he hadn't given Spencer time to be disappointed but had quickly made a date for the coming weekend, insisting that it was worth the train ride out here and back. He wouldn't tell Spencer what he had planned, just promised that it would be fun. Oddly enough, Spencer found he trusted him.

These flowers, though, they were a touch he hadn't expected. Nor had he expected just how much he'd enjoy them. Traditionally, he knew that this was one of those things that, as a man, he shouldn't like so much. He didn't care. Sitting down at his desk, he gave in to the urge and buried his face in the flowers, drawing in the delicious scent that came from them.

"Those are so beautiful, Reid." Emily told him. She bumped her hip against him, a silent show of support that had Spencer smiling up at her.

"Who's the lucky lady?" Derek teased him, moving to sit on the edge of Spencer's desk.

Spencer was abruptly glad that he'd pocketed the card. He wasn't quite ready to tell anyone about Remy. At least, anyone but Emily. Hopefully he could pass it off to Derek as their usual teasing and not clue the man in that he truly didn't want him to know. "Like I'd tell you. You'll tease me bad enough as it is." Spencer joked.

"Reid! I'm offended you think that!"

The snickers from both Spencer and Emily told Derek just how unbelievable his offended tone was. The older man broke into a grin and shook his head. "Fine, be that way. Keep your secret, for now. But don't think I won't find out." He turned his attention back to the bouquet and his smile softened just a little in a way that let Spencer know that his friend was honestly happy for him. "Whoever sent it picked a cheerful one. It's bright and colorful."

Fingering one of the tulips, Emily asked "Don't these all have meaning?"

Spencer ignored the low groan from Derek and immediately launched into what he knew of some of the flower meanings. "They do. The pink hydrangeas have many different meanings, but most people believe they mean 'you are the beat of my heart'. The peach roses are appreciation and thanks, while the pink are love and gratitude, generally. The orange Asiatic lilies are often associated with passion. Purple stock is symbolic of bonds of affection and lasting beauty."

"So whoever sent this is telling you that you're beautiful and they're in love with you?" Derek asked teasingly.

If Spencer blushed any harder, his cheeks were going to burn. He ducked his head down and ignored the laughter around him. None of it was enough to wipe away his smile, though. It stayed there through all of Derek's teasing, through even a few joking remarks from Emily—who knew far more here than Derek did. Nothing they said could wipe it away, nor could Derek convince Spencer to tell him just who they were from. Eventually the other two went back to their desks to go back to work and Spencer was left as close to alone as he could be in the bullpen. Tipping his head just a little, letting his hair curtain his face, he let himself just admire the flowers for a moment, enjoying the warm feeling it put in his heart. He'd never been courted like this before. Never been treated and spoiled. Who cared what others had to say? Let them tease.

Slipping his phone from his pocket, Spencer opened up his text messages and, after a small debate, sent off a quick one. _Thank you for the flowers. They're absolutely gorgeous._

It didn't take long for the reply to come in. _They reminded me of you. Glad you like them. - R_

For the rest of the afternoon, Spencer found himself smiling every time he looked up and saw the flowers sitting there, bright and cheerful on his desk.


End file.
